Powers of Animation
by VidielSilverbane
Summary: She's been running her entire life from place to place, family member to family member. With only one Aunt left, she's ended up in Bayville and quickly becomes tied to the Institute. But is she all she seems? T because of language/to be safe. OC. AU-ish. KurtxOC. Progress Terminated, On Permanent Hiatus. Sorry, folks. It's been real.
1. Of Meetings and of Brewing Things

_**Author's Note:**_

_**So, hi! If you're coming here because of "Nightshadow", welcome! If you aren't, welcome!**_

_**So, this starts kinda around the time that Mystique poses as Xavier and the Institute blows up…but like, before Mystique poses as Xavier. So the Prof's still the Prof. And just to let you know, I'm kinda throwing some of the stuff that happens in the series out the window. Like, I'm keeping a lot of the general storyline, but I'm replacing bits and changing bits and sometimes getting rid of parts altogether. So, it's a lot of me thinking up stuff. But like, some of it's based off of what happens in the show. It **__**is**__** fan fiction, am I right? So, anyway, on with the show!**_

_**One and Only Disclaimer because it's a Fan fiction Site so We Really Don't Need Them: I only own my OC.**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter One:<span>  
><span>Of Meetings and of Brewing Things.<span>  
>~First Person POV~<p>

The wind ripped through the trees outside. Rain pounded endlessly against the large glass windows without rhyme or rhythm. It was so dense one couldn't see anything but rain, rain, and more rain. The only sounds were the pounding of the rain on the windows and pavement, the howling of the wind, and the drone of the teacher standing in the front of the darkened room.

A storm was brewing in Bayville.

It was odd, because it didn't usually rain this hard around here (as far as I knew, at least). And according to the news this morning, the worst was yet to come. I pulled my cardigan tighter around me and turned my attention back to the teacher. He was a sub, and was going on and on and on about the PowerPoint that no one could see entirely because he only pulled the projector screen down halfway. Tuning in, I discovered he was now talking about the effects of electro-magnetic shock on psychopaths. From the slide showing behind him, he should have been talking about the proper way to analyze fingerprints. See, it was _supposed_ to be a forensics class, but Mr. Long term Sub/ "I-have-a-degree-in-forensics-and-psychology" didn't know what the hell he was talking about.

Forensics class my ass.

I let my eyes wander to the students sitting in gloom around me. I began to play a game, trying to match names with faces, but it was proving difficult. Partially because I could barely see two rows of identically mundane desks in front of me. But partially because I had just moved to Bayville a few weeks prior. I didn't even know why I was in that forensics class, I hadn't been in it at my old school before the capital M Move.

It was guessing it was a filler class, for a mix of students surrounded me – from wide-eyed, furiously note-taking freshmen to the Kings and Queens that were Bayville High's seniors. My deduction was proven correct when the boy in front of me turned around and asked me to pass a note to the girl on my left in a German accent. He had black hair and dark eyes, and even in the almost complete darkness I could see a mischievous glint in his eyes.

_Kurt._ I mentally reminded myself of his name before obliging to his request. The girl on my left, I discovered, had long, brown hair pulled into a ponytail and a pair of the bluest eyes I had ever seen.

_Kitty. _I thought as I handed her the note. I didn't have to be discreet, Mr. Sub (for he never told us his name) had turned all the lights off – even though with them on we could see the screen perfectly fine – so the only savior from the darkness was the blaring white light from the projector. I heard kitty stifle giggles with her hand before scratching down a response and refolding the paper.

"Hey, uh, it's Analeigh, right? Can you, like, hand this to Rogue?" Kitty asked me in a sorry excuse for a whisper. Mr. Sub must've not only been blind but deaf as well, because he didn't even notice. I nodded my response before taking the paper and glancing around the room. Panic boiled up inside me. _Who the hell is Rogue?_ I searched around the room to see if it was obvious. I assumed this Rogue was a she, and that she had to sit close by or else Kitty would've told me to pass it along to someone else instead of to Rogue.

"Oh, wait, you're like, new here. So sorry! Should've told you where she was. She's diagonally behind you." Kitty said with an apologetic smile. I felt myself flush a little, but not as bad as it would've been if I had to have asked her. _She's nice. _I decided as I turned around and handed it to Rogue. Now that I had looked at her, I could recognize her Goth style and white strips right away.

Rogue grunted a 'thank you' before snatching it out of my hand. Listening around the pounding rain, I heard a faint chuckle come from her direction. Then the paper landed back on my desk with the words 'give to Evan Daniels' written in sloppy handwriting on the front. Thankfully, I knew Evan. He was in my math class. I quickly scanned for his blonde head. He was sitting with his head lying in his hand two seats in front of me. I was about to tap Kurt's shoulder to have him hand it to Evan when a soft snore rumbled from him.

_Shit. Shitty shit shit. _I thought, retracting my hand away. I paused for a moment, listening to the rain – which hadn't let up, by the way – before deciding that between it and Mr. Sub, no one would be able to hear me.

Praying that in the dark room no one could see what I was doing, either, I stretched out my fingers and let my hand hover over the paper. Concentrating hard, I screwed my eyes shut and pictured the paper growing little legs and walking over to Evan. I focused particularly on Evan's appearance, to make my instructions clear. I opened my eyes and moved my hand away to reveal the folded square now had sprouted little cartoon-ish stick legs and feet.

"Go to Evan's desk." I whispered to it. It jumped from my desk, waddled across the floor, and paused at the leg of Evan's desk. I took a moment to mentally face palm before spreading my fingers wide so my palm obstructed my view of my little paper-man. With a slight twitch of the wrist, paper-man grew little paper arms and fingers. I watched in my usual fascination as he deftly climbed up the desk leg and ended up next to Evan's elbow. Satisfied that it had reached its destination, I closed my outstretched hand into a fist. My paper-man lost his life, and fell onto the desk with a soft crinkle. I let a smirk play its way across my face as Evan picked it up, read it, and laughed before passing it the long way back to Kitty. _Mission accomplished. _

She was about to pass it back to Rogue when the end-of-day bell cut through the droning background noise like a knife. I picked up my books and hurriedly rushed out of the room, expecting to have to blink in the change of light. But to no avail, for the hallway was just as dark as the room I had just left. I began slipping my way through the throng of people getting ready to face the hurricane winds and pelting rain outside.

"Hey, hey wait!" I heard a girl call from behind me, but I thought nothing of it. After all, there were plenty of people shouting at one another over everyone else's heads. I had reached my locker with surprising ease and began to open it when the girl called again, this time right next to me:

"Hey, Analeigh, right?" she asked. I turned around to see none other than the flaming hair of Jean Grey. With a jolt, I realized she sat \in the back row of forensics – next to Rogue. That meant she sat right behind me.

_Shit. She could've seen. Why didn't I look back there, too? Ana, you dumbass. _I scolded myself. I knew, in just my month and 6 days of living in Bayville, that Jean was a total goody-goody. There was no way she _wouldn't _have been watching her classmates pass a note, if not just to inform the teacher which student was really at fault if the other got caught.

"I saw what you did, Analeigh." She spoke quietly, gently, but I still cringed a little at the mispronunciation of my name. Jean had butchered it in the worst way possible – not only had she given the "A" and "Ahh" sound, like in "Anne", but she turned "leigh" into "lei" (like the Hawaiian necklace thing) instead of "lee". Altogether, she called me "Anne-lei" instead of "Ahn-a-lee."

But anyway, enough with pronunciations.

"What _did _you see, Jean?" I asked innocently, making sure every syllable was enunciated carefully and precisely. Jean took an involuntarily step back, and my subconscious smirked. _Works every time._

"You gave-" Jean's voice dropped down to a whisper, before continuing, "You gave a piece of paper arms and legs. Then you had it _walk_ over to Evan."

"Did I?" I asked. Jean's brow furrowed in frustration.

"Yes, you did." She snapped. I smirked. She was getting really angry now.

"What are you saying, Jean? Am I a _mutant_?" I shot right back, my voice low and sinister. She took another step back, before bending her lanky form so that we were nose-to-nose.

"There's someone I would like you to meet." She said, just as vicious as I had. Before I had a chance to react, Jean had grabbed my books and jacket out of my locker, slammed it shut, and was dragging me through the crowd of kids preparing to brave the rain.

"Scott! Scott!" Jean called into the crowd, her hand still clamped in a vice-like grip on my upper arm.

"Yeah?" Scott seemed to materialize right in front of us, his red-tinted shades obstructing me from figuring out if his annoyed tone was genuine or just a front to get on Jean's nerves. _Probably genuine. He has the hots for her, obviously. _My subconscious piped up, and I mentally nodded in agreement.

"This is Analeigh-"

"Ahn-a-lee."

"Yeah, yeah. This is _Analeigh, _and I want to take her to meet the Professor. _She made paper walk!_" Jean stressed the last sentence into a strained whisper so it sounded like she was constipated. I was trying not to laugh at how serious she was being, but Scott gave me a startled look. Obviously, he was going to be just as a goody-goody as Jean. Great.

"Alright, let's go, then!" Scott grabbed Jean's hand and guided her through the students. I was dragged behind, so I only caught bits and pieces of their conversation after that. But it involved waiting for "the others", "the Institute", and "does she even want to go?" I decided to put in my two cents after I heard the latter.

"No, not really. I don't appreciate being whisked off by some stranger to meet some Professor guy. It's not the nicest thing for someone to do." I piped up, but if Scott or Jean heard me, they didn't acknowledge it.

Before I knew it, I had not only gone out of the building and gotten drenched by rain; but I had also been shoved into the back of a car and driven all the way up the winding driveway to the Xavier Institute. I had heard of it before. My Aunt Spencer told me about it. She said the people there were nice. So far, I wasn't so sure about nice. More like 'confusing' or 'strange'.

"C'mon, out you go." Scott said as he pulled open the door. We were inside the giant garage of the Xavier house. I began to take in my surroundings. I had counted two large black vans, six cars, a motorcycle, and a pick-up before Jean re-clamped her hand on my arm and dragged me inside.

The place was frickin' gigantic.

I mean, like, high ceilings and glass chandeliers and staircases that made the New York Public Library ashamed. It was huge. And fantastic. I could've just stood there taking in every last detail for hours if Jean hadn't kept dragging me behind her – and I mean _dragging._ I had tripped once or twice, and she didn't even notice.

"Jean, Scott. You were looking for me?" A calm voice asked from the shadows to our left. Jean stopped abruptly, and I almost smacked into her. From the shadows came a bald man in a fancy wheelchair wearing a rather smart suit – no wrinkles. My mind began to wander on possible ways that there were no wrinkles in his pants even when he sat in that wheelchair all day. I was so deep in thought that I almost missed introductions.

"This is Analeigh. She's in my forensics class. I thought you might like to _talk_ to her." The way that Jean said the word 'talk' sent a chill down my spine. _What the hell is this guy gonna do? Interrogate me?_

"Hello, Analeigh. My name is Professor Charles Xavier, and this is the Xavier Institute for Gifted Youngsters. Would you like to step into my office?" The man – _His name is Xavier – _was so serious, but in a calm way. Totally unlike Jean's outburst. Which, now that my arm was no longer in her grasp, I realized was a rather un-like her thing to do.

"Uh, sure. That's if you're not busy or anythin'." I responded, and then silently cursed at myself for the slip-ups in my speech pattern. _You're trying to leave that behind, Ana. Don't get caught up in it. _

"No, no, of course not. Follow me." I followed the Professor to his bookshelf-lined study. He gestured for me to sit down, so I chose one of the chairs in front of his desk and sat.

"Jean has told me that she believes you are a mutant." He stated, quite plainly, once I had gotten settled. I pinched the bridge of my nose for a moment, before turning my gaze to meet his.

"Yeah, she's told me that, too." I replied with a little chuckle. I had hoped he would laugh, but instead the corners of his mouth just twitched. That would have to do. At least I had discovered that he wasn't _totally _serious all the time.

"She says that you made paper walk." I rubbed my hand on the back of my neck, trying to find the right words. The observant part of my mind was trying to get me to focus on how he could have been told this when I was with Jean the entire time, but I pushed it aside. That was a question to be mulled over later. Right now, I had to get out of this situation – and _fast_.

"Nope." I informed him, emphasizing the "p" so it made an almost popping sound.

"No? So you're saying Jean imagined it?" He asked incredulously, his hands lacing together in front of him in a way that could only be described as _naturally._

"Yes." I nodded as I spoke, as if to emphasize my point.

'_Now, Analeigh, you and I both know that's not true.' _The Professor said, but it sounded…echoic. With a jerk I became conscious of the fact that his lips had not moved. Then it hit me: _He's a telepath. _

'_That I am. Now that I've told _you_ the truth, will you tell _me_?' _I nodded numbly.

"Good." Xavier said, aloud this time.

"Yeah. I made the paper walk. Rogue asked me to give it to Evan, but Kurt was asleep, so I gave it little legs and it jumped down and went over to Evan's desk and then I gave it little arms and it climbed up to Evan and before he noticed…I killed it." I spoke the last three words as if they were one, but Xavier caught it, anyway.

"You killed it?"

"Well, I made it lifeless again. That's what I do. I concentrate and picture in my mind whatever the inanimate thing is, only with life. Then I give it a job. Then it stays "alive", so to speak, until one of three things: it completes the job, it gets destroyed, or I kill it." I kept my eyes on my feet the entire time I mumbled my explanation.

"Well, you're not alone. Xavier Institute is full of people with a mutated X-gene, just like you. If you would like to, you can join us. With your parent's permission, of course." I looked up at his words, and he smiled. Slowly, I nodded my head, smiling as well.

"Sure, Professor. Lemme call them right now…I don't wanna go back out in the rain." I interjected my last thought before he said anything else. With a smile, he made a "go right ahead" gesture, and I began dialing the phone. I figured that it would be easier to explain if Xavier was feeding me details that I wouldn't know on my own.

As I waited for Aunt Spencer to pick up, I listened to the rain outside. Thunder had now joined it, but the noises sounded farther away. The logical part of me knew that it was just because we were deep inside this huge mansion. But part of me couldn't help but think that I had finally found a place to _truly_ call home.

* * *

><p><em><strong>So that's chapter one. Yeah. So, send a review if you want. That's cool, I suppose. If you don't want to, don't feel obliged.<strong>_

**_Don't worry if you hate author's notes, not all of them are this long, I just wanted to do a little…is explaining the word? Yeah, explaining, before I got too far in._**

**_Happy Writings,_**  
><strong><em>Vid.<em>**

**_PS -A little note on OC's: I know a lot of you hate them. Sometimes I hate them too. I don't blame you. Sometimes it's just terrible. But I find that whenever I think of a TV show, I always have an OC in mind. And so I use them. I have recently seen a lot of people ranting about how much they hate OCs, and that's cool. You can rant. I will listen. But I find that OCs are a way to take all the characters we know and love (and keep them the same) while still bringing in the author's own personal style and bringing in even more creativity. OCs make it, in my opinion, more original._**

**_PPS-Sorry about that mini-rant on OCs. I just felt that it needed to be addressed before I got a rather angry and hurtful anonymous PM about it. Plus, I wanted to make my opinion known to the people who have cared enough to read down this far. I thank you._**


	2. Of Background Checks and the Danger Room

Powers of Animation: Chapter Two:  
><span>Of background checks and the Danger Room<span>  
>~Analeigh's POV~<p>

My Aunt Spencer agreed. Without hesitation, either. She then drove in the crazy-ass storm outside to bring me my two small suitcases that was my life. Then she thanked the professor. Then she left. Without saying goodbye.

I wasn't surprised.

Aunt Spencer had only agreed to take me in because she had owed her brother Simon a favor, who had owed his brother Shawn a favor, who had owed his brother-in-law, Jason, a favor, who owed his brother (my father) a favor, who had owed my mother (and Spencer's sister), Samantha, a favor.

Needless to say, there were a lot of favors.

I had lived with every one of those people in the past three years or so. Ever since my powers 'showed themselves' (for lack of a better term), I had been sent from place to place. Usually after I used my powers to help someone or save someone's life or something heroic like that. I was, to put it bluntly, the family disgrace. Not only because I was a mutant, but also because I was one of the good guys. My parents were some pretty shady people. My entire maternal side of the family had gone to jail at least once. I was the odd man out. I didn't steal, didn't find enjoyment in other people's pain. I wasn't a Satanist or a sociopath or a sadist or any of the other crazy things my family had been diagnosed with. They thought there was something wrong with me.

I thought there was something wrong with them.

_My _point was proven when I told an audience of Scott, Jean, Xavier, a nice lady who told me to call her Storm, and a gruff guy who grunted in greeting. Xavier told me his name was Logan.

"Why is she _here_, Professor? Her entire family is a bunch of criminals! They could have been hired by Magneto to spy on us!" Scott had burst out once I had finished. I was really beginning not to like him. _He's nice enough, but he's so uptight. He needs to cool off. _I got lost in my own thoughts for a moment, tuning out the words of the people around me in the professor's study/office until they were just a dull hum in the background.

_I shouldn't have come. I shouldn't have told them. They'll make me leave. Or they'll make me stay, but everyone will hate me. Either way, my life'll end up like this storm: dark and miserable. Not that I hate rain. Rain's just fine. Really, really difficult to make alive, though. All liquids are. Have I done it before…? No, not with rain. That was orange juice. That was when Jason decided that I should go live with Shawn…hmm. I wonder if Uncle Shawn is out of jail yet. He should be, it was only a year sentence. Bloody asshole finagled his way out of that one…_ I continued on like that until a rough and borderline feral voice that I had never heard before interrupted my thoughts.

"She's not a criminal, bub." I jerked my head to look in the direction of the voice. It came from Logan. I gave him a small smile of thanks, but he just grunted and looked away.

_He's not very nice either. But at least he believes what's true._ Silently thanking him, I decided to listen to the conversation.

"-and that's what I think. I'm not trying to insult her, Professor, but we can never be too careful. There's been a lot of switching sides, you can't deny it." Scott was saying. He was much calmer now than his original outburst. I silently noted that Jean had rested her hand on his shoulder. _Yup. Suspicions confirmed. He likes her._

"Scott, you cannot judge Analeigh like that before even getting to know her. I believe she is on our side." The professor replied calmly, his hands folded in what I had concluded as a familiar thing for him to do.

"She should go in the danger room." Scott spoke, crossing his arms like he was trying to be defiant.

"No. The Danger Room is not the answer to this argument, Scott!" Storm uttered in shock.

"I'll do it." I piped up. Everyone – except the professor – looked down at me in disbelief.

"Wha'? Did you forget I was here?" I smirked. _Being quiet lets you hear a lot in this place, I bet._ I stored my new knowledge away in the recesses of my mind.

"You don't wanna do the Danger Room, kid." Logan said roughly.

"I think I do. If Scott doesn't believe that I'm not a criminal, then what else am I gonna do? Argue my way into the 'Nice List'?" I didn't know why, but I was getting pretty pissed off. It wasn't like Scott was trying to beat me up or something, he was just doubtful. It was understandable, really. But it was making me angry. Then I realized I made a Santa reference and fought the urge to laugh.

"You don't have to do this, Analeigh. You don't have to do anything you don't want to." The Professor said, locking onto me with chocolate-colored eyes.

"Please, Professor. Call me Ana. And I want to. It'll be fun!" I giggled at the last part. Not because it was funny, but more because I couldn't _wait_ to see the look on Scott's face when I beat whatever this "Danger Room" was.

Without another word, The Professor glided out of the room, beckoning us to follow him. Through a couple doors metal doors with large X's on them, down a shiny metal elevator, and through another door later, I was standing in the observation deck of the Danger Room.

The first thing I noticed was the size. It was a huge dome of a room, with every surface in the room covered in silver steel. Or what looked like steel. It was then when I realized that the only surfaces were the ceiling, the walls, and the floor.

_Shit._ I gulped. That was _not _good. Nothing in the room meant nothing for me to use.

"Logan, if you wouldn't mind showing Ana the way in." Xavier didn't make it a question, but if Logan was as defiant as he tried to show, I wouldn't have been able to tell. He just grunted and walked out. I trailed behind him.

"Put this on." He said, pulling a bundle of cloth from out of nowhere and shoving me into a closet I hadn't seen before. I stepped into the spandex-like suit. It was black, with yellow gloves and boots. There was a belt with another "x" symbol on the clasp, and two more on my shoulders. A turquoise triangle adorned the front, with a matching one in the back.*

I re-emerged from the closet to have Logan gruffly push me towards yet another metal door. "Through there." He said in a disapproving tone, before coming back the way he came.

I ran a hand through my long, honey-colored hair before stepping through the door. The Danger Room was exactly the same as it was from the observation deck, only bigger.

"_Are you ready?" _Xavier asked in my head. I flinched involuntarily. _Gotta get used to that, Ana._ I nodded my response, even though my subconscious had already said yes in my head.

Then the lasers came.

I silently thanked my mother for making me take gymnastics when I was little. The lasers came out of the walls and started shooting their red beams at me. I continuously danced out of the way as I tried desperately to figure out _how _I would animate _lasers. _My heart sank into my stomach. It wasn't looking too good. As I flipped backwards out of the way of one of those deadly red blasts, I got an idea.

The observation deck had windows.

Concentrating hard, I gave one of the large glass panes legs and imagined it jumping down so it was in between me and the lasers. Thankfully, it broke away from its frame and dropped down just in time to save me from being hit.

"Do what I do." I commanded my window-man, giving him arms. (Just in case. I didn't want a repeat of paper-man)

I positioned myself between two of the lasers. They both turned towards me and fired. With a cackle, I crouched onto the ground so that it hit the window instead. The lasers bounced off of the window (one of them centimeters from the top of my head) and rebounded so the potentially painful beams blew up the laser cannons.

"Yes!" I exclaimed, and gave a little hop of excitement. "It worked!" I turned to look up at Scott, who was staring down at me with his jaw slack. I beamed up at him in the most triumphant way possible as the pane of glass returned to where it was supposed to be. I curled my hand into a fist and un-animated it before speaking directly to Scott:

"So, I did your little Danger Room thingy. Which, obviously, was on a very low setting or whatever. Am I still a bad guy?" Scott numbly shook his head and I did a mental victory dance.

_Score one for Analeigh St. Clair. _I thought to myself. But I was mostly proud of the fact that I didn't look like a _complete_ idiot. Just a semi-idiot in a weird getup.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:  
>*= Like how Kitty has that purple stripe thing? Yeah. Like that. Only not with a collar like her little getup has. I didn't know how to explain it. Sorry. <strong>_

_**Also, thank you those who reviewed. Feel free to review again. Or start to review, if you didn't last chapter! And uh, see you next chapter! **_

_**Happy Writings,  
>Vid<strong>_


	3. Of Interesting Developments&Other Sorts

_**A/N:**_

_**Hey guys, so I really need your help! I've been having major mental creativity blockage, and I can't seem to think of a name for Analeigh (both codename and a Wolverine-given nickname)! If you have any suggestions, it would be so very, **__**very**__** appreciated! Also, if you have any shippings you'd like to see, or any other suggestions for things, lemme know! I'm open to any and all suggestions, so like, yeah. I love getting feedback from readers, so no idea will be left un-read. I squeal like a little schoolgirl every time I hear that "ding" on my computer that tells me I got an email! Lol. So like, anyways, on with the show!**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 3:<span>  
><span>Of Interesting Developments and Other Sorts<span>  
>~Analeigh's POV~<p>

The next morning was really, _really_ awkward. At least for me. No one else seemed to feel as awkward as I did, though. Everyone just kept asking me questions during breakfast. Plus, it didn't help that Scott was glaring at me. And I mean, it was an "I'm going to destroy you" glare. And no one knew what was going on with him, making it me feel even _more _awkward. (But of _course_, no one noticed his glare of death.)

See, after I had thoroughly render Scott dumbfounded the night before, I had gone back into the observation deck and the six of us decided that the fact that my entire family is made up of criminals should be left out of my life story. Scott was the only one that thought it was a bad idea for me to keep that secret. I got the feeling he liked me even less than he did before.

_Good. I don't like you much either, Shades._ I smirked mentally as he got up silently and disappeared to who-knows-where.

I liked the other kids, though. They were all nice enough, albeit curious. It was like playing 20 questions for over an hour. I found that both the guys and the girls were easy to talk with, which was surprising because I generally didn't know what to say around guys. A good twenty minutes was spent talking to Amara, Jubilee, and Kitty about hair care; and just as much time debating with Bobby, Kurt, and Evan whether the best was to beat a Danger Room session was to take out the cannons or the claws first. I sided with claws, after Kurt explained to me what they were. _I could really make myself at home, here._ I thought idly as we finished up breakfast. Jean and Scott had already left. So had most of the "New Mutants", as Jean had explained to me while she showed me to my room the night before. So it was just me, Kurt, Evan, Kitty, and Bobby left sitting at the table.

"Analeigh." Logan's gruff voice said from behind me just as I was about to excuse myself from their conversation and leave for school.

"Yes, sir?" I asked, looking up at him from my seat.

"Come with me." Was his low reply. I glanced at Kurt, who was sitting next to me. _What's his deal?_ I tried to portray with my body language. The German just shrugged. I gave the rest of them a small wave before grabbing my backpack off the back of the chair and following Logan out of the kitchen. I trailed behind him as we went down what seemed like endless hallway after endless hallway. I was _way _past trying to keep track of where we were and had moved on to counting how many steps I had to take to keep up with one of Logan's (average was 2.5 to 1) when we reached our destination: the Professor's study. I watched curiously as the doors opened on their own. _Hm. Didn't notice _that_ yesterday._

"Ah, thank you, Logan. You may go now." Xavier said with a gentle wave of his hand. Logan grunted and left, closing the door with a _thud_ behind him.

"Why didn't you just like, ask me to come here telepathically?" I asked the Professor once the door was shut.

"I didn't want to frighten you. Hearing someone else's voice in your head can be quite scary, and it takes some getting used to." The Professor replied without much room to think between question and answer, as if he had expected it. He gestured for me to sit next to him, in one of a pair of velvet green armchairs. I hesitated for a second, but then sat down. _He wouldn't be kicking me out already, would he? No! Of course not. Get a grip, Ana. You aren't a criminal. It's just your entire family._ I let my backpack lay on the floor next to the chair with a soft _clunk._

"There is more to you than meets the eye, Analeigh." He stated. I cocked my head to the side. _What the hell does he mean by that?_

"I mean, Analeigh, that you have more power in you than you're letting." I just sat there for a moment, letting his words sink in.

"No disrespect, sir, but I dunno what you're talking about." I rubbed the back of my neck with my hand. I tried to think about what he could possibly be talking about. But it all boiled down to a variation of "he's crazy".

"Hmm, really? Because I'm detecting that you've used more power before." The Professor stated with a frown. I decided to ignore how weird that statement sounded, even though my subconscious wanted to analyze it to shreds.

"Well…you know, I _can_ make things I animate bigger or smaller, if that's what you mean. But that's the only thing I can think of. Wait...wha'd'ya think I can do?" I looked down at my hands uncertainly. They were made of the same small, slightly calloused fingers and chewed nails they were a minute ago. _So why do I feel like they're…different?_ I wondered as I waited for the professor to answer.

"I have reason to believe that at the rate your powers are developing, in as little as a year you could animate and control anything. Anything in the _world._" He stressed the last word, as if to prove a silent point. Realization dawned on me.

"Holy-So, like, I could control trees and animals and things, not just the inanimate objects?" I asked for clarification, even though I knew in the back of my mind I didn't need it. I knew what the Professor's response was going to be.

"Yes. You could quite possibly be able to control the movements of a human, as well." I swallowed at this confirmation. It was suddenly strange, looking down at my hands_. Who knew they could hold so much power._

"It isn't your hands, Analeigh. It's your head. Your powers are neurological. Your hands give direction, but it is your brain that does all the essential work." I snapped my head up to look at him, then relaxed. _He's a telepath, Ana. Get used to it._ I told myself.

"I…I don't want to learn how to animate a human…if I can even call my powers that anymore." Words mumbled out of my mouth before I could comprehend what they were saying.

"It is _still_ animation, Analeigh. Animation, by definition, is the act of animating, or to give spirit or life to. But it can also mean 'to move to action'. That's what you'd be doing. You'd be moving people to do the actions you chose."

"That's a rather loose form of the definition, Professor." I told him, a little more matter-of-fact than I had intended.

"Yes, but you _are_ a mutant. Potentially, anything is possible. You just have to believe in it. And in yourself, Analeigh." His words rang true; I recognized the small spark of involuntary excitement that they gave me. If I believed and concentrated hard enough, I could animate anything I wanted. The question was whether or not I wanted to.

"I have arranged for you to have one-on-one trainings with Wolverine…or Logan, as you've known him as so far. They will start this afternoon."

"But why Logan? Wouldn't it make more sense for like, you or someone else with neurological powers to help me?" I asked. It didn't appear I had a choice on the whole "honing my powers" thing.

"Because Logan has a skeleton of adamantium, which is a metal. We figured that it would be easiest to start with Logan since a part of him was already inanimate, which is what you're used to. Now, I believe you should get going. Some of the others are waiting for you so you all can go to school." The Professor added the last part after looking out the window. Sure enough, there were Kitty, Kurt, Evan, and Bobby hanging out by the fountain. I guessed that the "waiting for me" part was supplied by Xavier's mind reading.

"Oh. Okay. Thank you, Professor." I picked my bag up from my feet and started heading towards the door. When my hand came to rest on the doorknob, I hesitated.

"Professor?" I called quietly, still staring at the door in front of me.

"Yes, Analeigh?" He responded. I heard his wheelchair begin to move across the floor towards me.

"Call me Ana." I looked over my shoulder as I spoke. Xavier was in the middle of the room now, smiling at me.

"Of course, Ana. Have fun at school. And don't hesitate to ask me or any of the other adults for anything. This is, after all, your home." Exiting the room, I let the door click softly behind me before allowing a smile.

_Home. _I couldn't help but repeat over in my head as I walked out the tall glass front doors to meet my new friends. _I think I rather like that._

* * *

><p><em><strong>So, there's chapter three! Like I said up at the top, I really need some help with Ana's codename and Wolverine nickname. I have a few options in mind, but they're all not creative and I don't like them at all. So thank you in advance for your suggestions, and I bid you farewell until next time I post! (lol.)<strong>_

_**Oh, and in case you were wondering, Ana hasn't seen Kurt blue yet. Just letting you know, because I found myself wondering when I re-read it…just thought you ought to know.**_

_**Happy Writings,  
>Vid.<strong>_


	4. Of Training Sessions and Fuzzy Dudes

_**A/N:**_

_**My apologizes for the long update. Final projects before the holiday were consuming my life. But I'm here again!**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 4:<span>  
><span>Of Training Sessions and Fuzzy Dudes<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

"So, are you going to join the X-Men, or vill Wolverine not let you?" Kurt asked as the five of us walked into school.

"The X-Men?" I answered his question with a question.

"Ja, the X-Men."

"It's a group of us that use our powers to help people and like, stop evil."

"Yeah, it's what we train for."

"I'm not a part of them fully – yet." Bobby was the last one to add in his two cents. I felt like it was all one big rehearsed answer.

"Oh-kay…um, I dunno. I mean, it sounds pretty cool. But no one's said anything to me about it – obviously. I had had to ask what you were talkin' about to begin with, after all." I tried to play it cool, but I had to admit, I _was_ intrigued with the concept of the "X-Men".

_It would certainly explain the suit-thing Logan gave me yesterday._ I thought, idly wondering whether the costume meant that I was "in."

"I'm sure you'll be able to join, Ana. You vould be a great addition." Kurt said, patting my shoulder reassuringly.

"Thanks, Kurt." I smiled up at him. He returned the gesture, but there was a look in his eyes that I couldn't quite place.

* * *

><p>The day passed so much quicker than any I could remember since coming to Bayville. Even good ol' Mr. Sub's class seemed to breeze by now that I was reading the notes the Institute kids passed around, not just passing them along. Before I knew it, the bell had rung and we were walking back to the Institute – walking <em>home.<em>

"D'you guys usually walk home?" I asked, mainly out of curiosity.

"No, usually Kurt and I get a ride from Scott." Kitty responded with a smile.

"Ja, but since today's the first time dis veek it hasn't rained, ve thought it vould be fun to valk." Kurt added as we finished walking up the long drive of the Institute.

"Oh, hello." A voice spoke up from behind us, making me jump. I turned around to come face-to-face with a blue, furry ape-man.

_Ape-man?_ I thought as I looked at him with curiosity. I tried not to let it show, however.

"Hi…" I broke off, unsure of what to say.

"My name is Hank McCoy. I'm sorry that I didn't meet you yesterday when you arrived." He was quite chivalrous, and spoke in a manner that you expect a teacher would normally. It reminded me of the way my father spoke. Needless to say, I suppressed a shudder.

"Oh! I think the Professor mentioned you yesterday." I lied. But hey, what was I supposed to do? "My name is Analeigh St. Clair. But you can call me Ana. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCoy." I gave a small smile and stuck my hand out. Truthfully, I was a little frightened, but I pushed the fear aside.

_You _are _the one living with him. Better get used to it._ I told myself as he shook my hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ana. Now if you excuse me…" He trailed off as we stepped aside to let him through the great double doors of the Institute.

Once he was gone, Evan burst out laughing.

"What's so funny, Daniels?" I snarled, but he just kept laughing.

"You…you just…" He began to choke out, but Bobby cut him off.

"I think what he's trying to say is, you took that really well." I blinked in confusion. _What did they expect me to do?_

"Why wouldn't I? It would be rude to freak out." I said with a nonchalant shrug.

"So you _were_ scared?" Evan said, sobering up. He gave a sidelong glance towards Kurt.

_Now why would he do that? _I wondered, but I pushed the thought aside. I could think about that later.

"Startled, yes. Scared, no. It's not the most frightening thing I've ever seen…really not scary at all after the initial "he's blue". Plus, I was kind of expecting someone…well, you get my point." I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly feeling very awkward and self-conscious.

"There you are, Blondie. C'mon." Logan's gruff voice saved me from any further awkwardness. The Canadian was standing in the doorway, a mildly curious expression etched across his features. He turned around sharply and started walking away as soon as he knew he had gotten my attention. I muttered good-byes to Kitty, Kurt, Evan, and Bobby and hurried after Logan.

"Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to be -" He cut me off.

"Late? No one ever _means_ to be late. They just _are._" I flinched inwardly at the no-nonsense tone Logan was using.

"Sorry." I murmured again, and this time Logan stopped walking and turned to face me.

"Stop apologizing, Blondie. You gotta learn no matter how many times you apologize, it doesn't always make it better."I nodded solemnly, and he continued walking.

"Um, Mr. Logan?" I asked tentatively. A thought had suddenly come to mind. Logan grunted, so I took it as a go-ahead.

"This morning, some of the others mentioned something…the X-Men…" I trailed off, unsure of what to say.

"Ask Chuck about it." Was Logan's blunt reply.

_Chuck…oh, the Professor. Duh, Ana. Of course you should be talking to _him_ about it. He's the one in charge, after all. _I scolded myself mentally.

"Okay." We walked the rest of the way in silence, me having to almost jog to keep up with Logan.

_Who knew such a small man could walk _so_ fast._ I thought, silently cursing my 5-foot frame.

"Alright, Blondie, listen up." Logan barked once we were in the Danger Room. I glanced up into the Observation Deck, expecting an audience. The Professor, Storm, Mr. McCoy, Jean, and Scott were all standing there. Unfortunately, Kurt and Kitty were there as well.

_God, I didn't tell them…this is going to be awkward…now I'm going to do this experiment with Logan…what the hell are they going to think?_ My subconscious piped up, the insecure teenager in me bubbling into my brain and filling it like cotton. I tried to get rid of the thought, but it was stuck there.

I sighed, forlorn at my inability to get rid of the insecure feeling that had now travelled to the pit of my stomach.

"All I-_we_ want you to do is try and make me make a fist." Logan said in the rough manner I had come to recognize as his normal way of speaking. I pulled my long honey hair into a ponytail.

"Okay." I said, nodding. I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. I splayed my fingers wide, palm facing out in the direction of Logan. Taking it slowly, I imagined the fingers of his left hand curl in, one by one, to make a fist. By the time I got to his pinkie, I was feeling light-headed and slightly queasy. I pushed the nausea aside and focused on completing the fist. _You can _do_ this, Ana. _I clenched my jaw and concentrated. The mental image I had conjured of Logan's hand became a full fist. _Finally._

Satisfied but feeling like absolute shit, I lowered my arm and cautiously opened my eyes. Partially because I was afraid I was going to pass out. But mostly I was afraid that it hadn't worked, and I just made a fool of myself.

"Well, Blondie, that was a success." Logan said, and sure enough, his left hand was clenched into a fist at his side, thumb tucked in. I burst into a wide grin.

Big mistake.

The room started to spin, and I dropped my head into my hands. Breaking my hold on Logan's fist, I closed my eyes to try and stop everything from spinning. It didn't work. Somehow, I still felt like I was in one of those teacups at Disneyworld…only much, much faster.

"Blondie…kid…Ana, you okay?" I heard Logan, but he was distant. Afraid to shake my head or speak, I didn't acknowledge his question. Even with my eyes closed and my mouth clamped firmly shut, I still felt like my insides were about to become my outsides.

"Kurt, take her to the infirmary." Professor X sounded like he was light-years away. Suddenly, I felt like I was falling, but in slow-motion, but then a pair of strong and furry – _Furry?_ – arms were around me. There was a _Bampf_ and the light streaming through my eyelids became blinding. I moaned in pain, and the lights were dimmed drastically. I risked cracking one of my eyes open a sliver, just to see where I was. There, standing in the dim light, was Kurt, his arms still wrapped around me. Only, he didn't look like Kurt; he was blue and furry, with pointy ears –

And then everything went black.

* * *

><p><em><strong>So there we have it! Trying to get back into the swing of things here. I've got an epic idea involving Ana's family, so now I'm uber-excited! Yay!<strong>_

_**Happy Holidays and Happy Writings,  
>Vid.<strong>_


	5. Of Collaborations and Icemen

_**A/N: **_

_**So, here is a short chapter. Sorry. But I had to set up some stuff. And, for the first time ever, a point of view that **_**isn't**_** Ana's! Yay!**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 5:<span>  
><span>Of Collaborations and Icemen<span>  
>~Bobby's POV~<p>

Kurt had freaked out about something and wound up teleporting into the bathroom while I was brushing my teeth.

"Dude!" I exclaimed through a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Sorry, dude. It's just - Ana saw me!" Kurt sighed and slumped against the wall. It was then that I noticed that Kurt was, well, _blue_.

"What? Why? What happened?" I said, spitting out my toothpaste into the sink.

"And ve vere getting along so vell, too..." He trailed off, obviously bummed and thinking that she'll hate him now. I snapped my fingers in his face.

"What _happened_?" I repeated.

"Oh. The Professor and Logan vere testing Ana's powers and she got all dizzy so I teleported her to the infirmary and I accidentally hit my vatch on de table and voila! Last thing she sees before passing out is a fuzzy dude." He sighed again and put his head in his hands.

_I wonder if she's okay…_ I thought, and decided that I should go check on her. _You are her friend after all…at least, I think you are._ My subconscious added padding to my already solid reasoning. I didn't let myself remind me that Ana hadn't told me about her powers yet, and I was curious as to what they were. _You are going there purely out of concern for a friend. Not so that you can pester her about her powers. _

"C'mon, Kurt. She took Mr. McCoy really well; she'll take you fine too. Don't worry about it." I told him, and patted his shoulder awkwardly before leaving. Inside, my mind was racing. I had given up on refraining from thinking about what Ana's powers were, and was instead trying to guess what they could be. _Telekinesis? That's something that the Professor would test right away…_

Once I got there, the first thing I noticed was that she was alone. Which was strange. That either meant the professor hadn't gotten there yet (unlikely) or he had already done whatever it is you do with unconscious people and then left. Deciding that it wouldn't take _that _long for her to wake up, I sat down in a hard plastic chair that matched the cold metal-on-white decor of the room to wait. Sure enough, I had been there only about twenty minutes when I saw Ana's eyes flutter open.

"Hey there." I said, smirking just a little, out of habit.

"Bobby?" She pushed herself up into a sitting position.

"The one and only Iceman, at your service." I responded coyly, bowing in my seat with a flourish twirl of my wrist.

"Where's Kurt?" The question was innocent enough, but I felt panic rise from the pit of my stomach.

_What am I supposed to tell her?_ I thought wildly, trying not to openly freak out.

"He uh, had to good something. Why d'you ask?" I stammered.

_Smooth moves, Bobby. _I thought, cursing at myself for coming up with such a lame excuse. Ana looked at me with her large, brown eyes and shrugged slightly.

"I just wanted to thank him for helping me." I felt my panic subside when she showed no signs of being freaked out about his blue-ness. _Maybe she doesn't even remember seeing him blue._ I thought hopefully, but I wasn't going to push it.

"I'll be sure to let him know you want to talk to him next time I see him." _If the blue furry elf ever shows his face again, that is._ I added silently. He could be _so _overdramatic. I blamed Kitty.

We sat there for a few moments in a surprisingly comfortable silence, until Ana spoke again.

"Iceman, huh?" she asked, a sly grin gracing her pale face.

"Yeah, it's pretty cool." I shot her a wide grin, a little full of myself. "What is it you can do?"

"Oh, uh, you know. Nothing particularly interesting. Just animation." She said humbly, running a hand through her hair as she talked. My eyes widened. _Animation, huh? That sounds interesting._

"So, say, if I did this..." I trailed off and made a little ice soldier in the palm of my hand.

"I would do this." She finished, and held out her hand like Jean does for telekinesis. I watched in awe as the ice soldier started marching slowly up my arm before poking me in the face with a tiny ice sword.

"Ouch! That's wicked. He can do whatever you want him to?" I asked, rubbing at my cheek. I saw a red flush creep up her neck.

"Uh, yeah. I could make him bigger, too, if need be." She said as I watched the ice soldier hop from my arm to the side table next to her bed.

"Wicked..." I muttered again, and I saw her go redder out of the corner of my eye. I resisted the urge to laugh. _She's so easily embarrassed! _I thought, picking up the ice soldier. It immediately went lifeless, and I looked over at Ana in alarm, only to see that she had closed her hand.

"Sorry, did you want to play with your little toy some more?" She spoke with a patronizing tone and a sly smile. I grinned sheepishly.

"Well-"

"Ah, Ana, good, you're awake." The Professor cut off my reply, and I jumped slightly. I hadn't heard him come into the infirmary.

"I'm sorry, professor." Ana apologized immediately to Xavier, which made the latter chuckle.

"No need to apologize, you did quite well. I had Kurt there for a reason." He said, his hands folding together under his chin. He was silent for a moment, and then he saw the small soldier still in the palm of my hand.

"And it seems you can recover quickly." He added, indicating the soldier. I felt my cheeks grow hot, but Ana just smiled.

"Well, it's a very tiny soldier. Doesn't take a lot. And it was easier than verbally answering Bobby's question as to what I can do." The heat in my face grew stronger, and I folded my fingers in, effectively destroying the little sculpture.

"I think that you two would work very well together." The Professor commented passively, but I took it in stride, trying to hide my embarrassment.

"Yeah, we're a regular old collaboration, aren't we?" I grinned eagerly at Ana, who grinned right back.

The pure adolescent male part of me wanted to make a player comment and then start discussing with her how many little ice soldiers she could animate at once. (I had gotten a _great _idea for a prank on Scott.) But really, I was just happy that I had made another friend. Given, she was a very pretty friend who was powerful and was probably my ticket into being a full X-Men member. But I wasn't going to _use_ her like that; it was just purely an added bonus.

Either way, as the Prof. and Ana talked about her progress; I couldn't help but idly dream of Ana and I kicking Alvers and the other Brotherhood morons' hides from here to next Tuesday.

_Yeah, we'd make an _excellent_ team._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ta-da! So, there you have it. A very short chapter to help me gear up for things. So, yeah. In case you were wondering, I'm not aiming on pairing Ana with Bobby, I wasn't really planning on her with anyone, but if you want to see her with Bobby (or any of the other X-Men kids that are <strong>_**not**_** Scott), send me a review or a PM letting me know! Your input is very much appreciated, and I take it all into consideration and even use a lot of the suggestions made to me (while giving the person credit, of course.)**_

_**Happy Writings,  
>Vid.<strong>_


	6. Of Advancements and the Brotherhood

_**Oh my god, I'm so, so, so, so, so, SO x100000 sorry! I didn't mean to go MIA, but January was the month from hell and I had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on by the time February came around and Real Life just kinda…caught up. Literally, it got so bad that I had to schedule time just to wind down and watch PRNS or Young Justice or X-Men Evo or one of my other shows that I enjoy obsessing over. But my area's Band Assessments and Solo & Ensemble Festival are almost here, and after that is SPRING BREAK! So, since things are winding down, and I have nothing to do in my shop class (which isn't even shop, by the way. We haven't so much as touched a power tool all year…total waste of time). So here I am! **_

_**In other news, I was amazed at all the review feedback about who to put Ana with (and just the feedback in general). You guys are the BEST like, ever. And I hope you didn't give up on me in my absence! It isn't going to come into account for another chapter or two, but I think I've made my decision…**_

_**Anyway, enough of me rambling on, on with the story!**_

_**Props to Lady Firewing for giving me Ana's code…name…thingy. You get what I mean.**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 6:<span>  
><span>Of Advancements and the Brotherhood<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

I didn't know what to think when I walked into the dining room and everyone was staring at me. It had been happening for about a week, ever since my success/failure/whatever you want to call it with Logan. The only ones who were treating me normally (that weren't adults) were Bobby and Kurt.

News of what I could do spread like wildfire. Kitty had apparently told everyone in the house what I did with Wolverine's fist in a record-breaking fifteen minutes. Now they all thought I was going to do something completely against everything I stood for and like, try to hurt them or something. I had even overheard Scott the other day telling Jean he thought I was a 'danger to the Institute'. I couldn't blame him. He knew that my family was, for lack of a better word, criminals. As much as I wanted to hate Scott for how he was acting, I found that the rational part of me kept poking holes in my reasonings.

I walked in as calmly as I could and sat down between Bobby and Kurt (as usual). Bobby gave me a fist bump in what he thought was reassurance, and Kurt shot me a small smile.

That bothered me even more.

Kurt wouldn't let me talk to him about him being blue. I had weaseled as much information as I could out of Bobby (who was quickly becoming my best friend in this place), but it wasn't enough.

I didn't understand. Why didn't he trust me? After all, I had seen weirder things before. There was one particular heist my parents went on in Peru when I was six. When they returned home, they brought with him a green man with six arms and four eyes. Now _that_ was weird. Being blue and fuzzy? Not weird. Not at all.

I made a mental note to try to talk to Kurt again after training this afternoon before tuning into the conversations around me.

_At least it only took them ten minutes today._ I thought ruefully. At the beginning of the week they had stayed silent the entire time.

"Blondie." Logan barked from where he was leaning against the wall. _When did he get here? _I wanted to ask, but instead I just looked at him expectantly.

"How do you feel about the name 'Cerberus'?" He asked, and I furrowed my brow in confusion. Next to me, Bobby was practically bouncing out of his seat.

"Um, it's cool. That's the dog that guards the gates to hell, right?" I responded quietly, choosing to ignore Bobby for as long as possible. I was, in all honesty, kind of scared to know what he was excited about.

"Yes, that is Cerberus." Jean piped up from where she was sitting awfully close to Scott. Logan shot her a Look, and Scott was glaring at me like he _really_ wanted to take off those quartz shades of his. I couldn't understand his lasting anger, but I wasn't going to dwell on that. Logan cleared his throat to return my attention to him.

"Good. That's you're new name." I stared at him blankly for a moment before the realization dawned on me.

_My codename!_ I beamed at Logan's back, for he had turned around and was walking out the door. But it didn't matter that he hadn't seen my reaction, because _I had a codename!_ I took it as Professor X accepting me into the X-Men, and as I brought my attention back to the people around me, I saw Bobby giving me a mile-wide grin.

"Congrats, Ana!" He exclaimed, high-fiving me enthusiastically.

"You're just happy 'cause it's your in, man." Evan snapped, but gave me a small congratulatory nod, anyway.

"What? I can't be happy for my friend?" Bobby said, giving his best innocent expression. I laughed.

"Cut him some slack, Evan." I teased, and suddenly, like magic (if I believed that stuff), everyone accepted me back into the world. Kitty was all over me, and Rogue, she…she was just Rogue. Okay, bad example. But you can get my point when I say that the entire mood of the room changed. Becoming part of the X-Men got everyone to get over their behavior. All except Scott, that is. But that's besides the point.

"Come on, kids. School." Mr. McCoy spoke suddenly, poking his head through the doorway. Bobby, Kitty, and I grumbled as we picked up our bags and followed him out the door.

* * *

><p>It was all going great until the Brotherhood showed up. I had to have them explained to me by Bobby later on, but that's not the point.<p>

The point is, they cornered us. Us being Bobby, Kitty, Kurt, Evan, Rogue, and myself. They being Toad, Avalanche, Blob, Quicksilver, and Scarlet Witch. Six against five. Easy, right?

Wrong.

Oh, so very, _very _wrong.

They chased us into an abandoned construction site.

"Oh, come _on. _Are we like, really doing this now? I have things to do!" Kitty spat at the one Bobby told me was Avalanche. I vaguely recognized him; in fact, I recognized all of them except Scarlet Witch from school. But I assumed she went to Bayville High as well. I ran a hand through my hair before pulling it back. I wasn't going to let it get in the way if we started fighting – which I had no doubt we would do.

"This is our turf." He growled right back, and I sighed.

"So cliché, really. Next you're going to be saying that Bohemia is dead." I drawled in a low voice. This got me blank stares from everyone, both the Brotherhood and the X-Men.

_Wow. Note to self: no references._ I thought while shaking my head at their lack of knowledge.

"Never mind." I muttered, just as Toad got the guts (no pun intended) to say, "Stay out of this, little girl."

_Oh, that's _it_._ I felt red-hot rage bubble up inside me, and it took everything I had not to just lunge at the slimy little fool right then and there. But my self-control was wasted, though, because I heard a _bampf_ to my right and then Kurt was on top of Toad and all hell broke loose. I tried to get to Bobby, at first, because everything around us had the potential to accidentally kill someone if animated. My family wouldn't have cared if there were casualties.

That's exactly why I didn't do it.

I could tell Bobby was trying to get to me, too, but he was being sidetracked by Avalanche, so I gave up that idea and instead rushed to help Evan, who was having a hard time dealing with Quicksilver on his own.

Without anything to animate, I resorted to the gymnastics training of my childhood and the hand-to-hand combat I had learned in the past few weeks from training with Logan and the others.

I couldn't figure out how it happened, but somehow I was on my back with a wicked pain radiating from the center of my chest. Groaning, I picked myself up and surveyed the situation. Bobby and Toad were now going toe-to-toe, and it wasn't looking good for the Iceman; Evan was still being one-upped by Quicksilver; Rogue and Shadowcat were losing against Scarlet Witch and Blob, respectively; and Kurt…

_Kurt._

Kurt was being lifted off the ground by his neck, Avalanche's hand clasped firmly around the German's neck. My friends loosing around me suddenly didn't register.

I had seen that position before.

…And I wasn't about to let anything like _that_ happen again.

_**"Enough!"**_ I shrieked at the top of my lungs, fists clenched at my sides. Everyone stopped mid-strike to stare at me. My vision went white, and I felt a familiar tug at my gut.

The next thing I knew, I was back on the ground, and Kurt's blue, fuzzy face was inches away from mine.

"Ana! All you alright?" He asked hurriedly as I pushed myself up into a sitting position.

"Yeah, yeah. What happened?" I waved off his concern. It was the truth, too. I felt fine. Better than fine, really. I felt better than I had in _months_.

"What _happened_? Dude, you totally made Lance – I mean, Avalanche's – fingers bend backwards! He was howling in pain so loud, Jean and Scott heard and chased them off. And now you're sitting on the ground…again, apparently, according to Kitty." Bobby said enthusiastically, clapping my shoulder as he did. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Evan nodding in agreement.

"You sure showed them who's boss."

"Vhy did you do it?" Kurt's voice was soft, and I could tell he was debating whether or not he wanted to know the answer.

"He was hurting you." I replied without thought, and his shock was radiating through me as well.

_Did I really just say that? _I thought frantically to myself. Kurt opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again, reminding me of a fish.

"Oh, good, you're okay. Let's go before any police show up." Jean appeared out of nowhere and hauled me up onto my feet. Bobby put an arm around my waist (I was a little wobbly from the power exertion) and then six of us and Scott fell into step behind Jean, making our way slowly back to the Institute.

I looked over at Kurt, who was no longer blue, then followed the teleporter's gaze over my head to Bobby. He winked at me.

Blinking in confusion, I decided to concentrate on walking.

Bobby's winking and Kurt's concern were subjects of study that could wait another day.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ta-da! <strong>_

_**Brownie points to those of you who got the Rent reference. **_

_**So, there was a little bit of foreshadowing, yay! Also, I find myself straying farther and farther from the content of the actual episodes. Hope ya'll don't mind much. The way I see it, as long as I don't do something drastic it shouldn't be a problem.**_

_**Thank you all for bearing with my long absence.**_

_**Happy Writings,**_

_**Vid.**_


	7. Of Visitors and Family Businesses

_**A/N: **_

_**Hello again. **_

_**So, I've decided that unless I really need a chapter from someone else's POV; it's all going to be in Ana's from here out. I just like writing from her head better than the others.**_

_**Oh, and they haven't met the Acolytes yet…just saying.**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 7:<span>  
><span>Of Visitors and Family Businesses<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

I was lying on my bed struggling through my trig homework when there was a sharp rap on my door.

"Open." I said, and the door was pushed open. Glancing up, I saw the familiar pink that could only be Kitty.

"What's up?" I asked nonchalantly, turning back to my math.

"Um, there's someone downstairs asking for you. Really hot guy, blue eyes, nice smile?" She listed with borderline excitement. I bolted upright.

"And someone let him_ in_? Shit!" I jumped off my bed and rushed past Kitty. She called something, but it was lost to me in my rush to get down the stairs and get _him_ the _hell_ outta the manor as fast as possible.

"Simon Richards, what the _hell_ are you doing here?" I practically shouted as I reached the lobby. Simon turned his handsome face towards mine. It was obvious we were related: same honey-blonde hair, same square jaw, same slight frame. At twenty-three years old, he was my mother's youngest sibling. There was a twelve year age gap between the two (my mother was the second oldest in the Richards family).

He also was by far the most attractive and the best White Collar con in the family.

"Nice ta see you too, Butterfly." I winced slightly at the name. Butterfly was what they would call me when they thought that enemies were watching – cops and other criminals alike.

"Don't call me that, Simon." I simultaneously growled and grabbed his sleeve, intent on pulling him _out_ of my new home.

"Aw, come now, Butterfly, don' be that way. Don't you wanna talk to good-ol' Uncle Simon?" He teased, easily prying my fingers off him before clamping his own large hand on my forearm.

"Uh, no. I'd rather not. Because _one_, you aren't a part of my life anymore; and _two_, I hate your guts. So tell me why the _hell_ you're here so I can spend less time looking at your ugly _mug_." I spat, and at this point I could see that a small crowd had gathered.

_Shit. I'm gonna have a _lot_ of explaining to do. _I thought ruefully as Simon tightened his grip on my arm.

"Well, your Momma asked me to come down to Spencer's to check on you, but she said you were here. So I'll just be givin' the message here: we need your…_expertise_. Shawny got himself in a bit of a sticky situation." My heart sank a little at that. I had always had a soft spot for my Uncle Shawn. He was by far the nicest and the least criminal of all of my relatives. He had gotten forced into the 'family business' by my grandparents when he was little, and he couldn't get out. If I was going to help anyone in my family, it would be Shawn.

But _no_, I can't. I _won't_. I prided myself with the fact that I had left the few cons I was a part of buried in my past, and it was going to stay that way. I hadn't been a part of any of my family's activities in three years.

_Three years without a shred of illegal activity…not even Shawn would have me change that._

I fixed Simon with a hard glare.

"You can tell my mom that I'm not doin' any of that shit. I told her three years ago, after Crow, that I wasn't gonna have any of it anymore. That she was done forcin' me to do that – that _stuff_. So you can just get outta here and leave me alone." I dropped my voice as low as I could make it as I spoke, careful not to give the people around Simon and I anything to talk about.

"I can get your Momma down here – she _can_ make you, you know. And the Crow was a tragedy, yes, but not one to just quit out on us. Now that your Mom's in charge, things have changed. You couldn't have done anything to help Sebastian, Butterfly, and you know it. But you _have_ to help Shawn. He's barely been outta month 'nd already got in deep with Gambit." I realized with a jolt that Simon was trying to be _nice_ to me, to _reason_ with me. Trying to be an actual Uncle instead of a messenger for my mother.

_That little two-faced…_ I felt the white-hot anger that I had been keeping inside for the past three years threatening to show itself.

"Gam- Simon, get _out._ Tell my mom to use her own _expertise_ if she wants to help her little brother so badly. Or, better yet, let _Shawn_ out. She knows how much he doesn't want it. Hell, he's your little scapegoat because of it. I don't give a _damn_ what you do, Simon, or what anyone else does, just _let me alone._" I snarled the last words and dragged Simon to the door.

"Fine. Have it your way, Analeigh. But your Momma won' be happy." He said in parting, finally letting go of my forearm.

"Let her be that way! I don't _care_, Simon!" I shouted after him as he disappeared down the long drive of the X-mansion. I looked down at the handprint-shaped bruise on my arm and turned around.

Everyone was looking at me.

"Shit." I muttered, mentally swearing up and down at Simon, my mother, and my entire family.

"What was _that_ about?" Bobby was the first to recover. To my surprise, he didn't sound angry, only curious. Those surrounding him – Kitty, Jubilee, Evan, and Kurt – didn't look angry, either. In fact, Kurt looked borderline _concerned_.

"Um…well, you see…that was my uncle…and mmm, Simon came to give me a message from my mom…I don't particularly like Simon o – or my mom, or my entire family, for that matter…" I trailed off and stared at my feet.

"Oh, come _off it,_ Ana. Just say it. Say it all." Scott snapped suddenly, shooting Jean, the Professor, Logan, and Storm I-told-you-so looks.

"Fine. Truthfully, my family's a bunch of White Collar cons. My mom has the power to control minds, and when I was little, would make me help because I was small and could get through air ducts easily. The Richards family Thieves Guild was under the direction of my mom's older brother, Sebastian, from before I was born to three years ago, when he died. A mutant killed him during a sting job code-named Crow. My mom took charge, stopped using her powers out of shame and anger. Since I could on my own free will, I left it all behind and went to live with my dad, who was a con but now has a bum leg so he can't.

"My powers developed and he sent me back to my mom, who wanted nothing to do with me. So then I was bounced from family member to family member because I couldn't live on the street – they thought I'd start ratting them out to the cops. My Uncle Shawn, who cons because when he was little he was forced to by _his_ parents, like me, apparently got into some trouble with another thief, so my mom sent Simon here to try and get me to help. But I refused, even though Shawn's the only person in my family that cares about me and that I actually like, because I'm not a criminal.

"So if you have a problem with my family, I can leave. This probably won't be the last time one of them shows up trying to get me to join them. There. That's all of it. That's my entire family history since they came over to the thirteen colonies."

I finished and took a shaky breath, mentally preparing myself for the onslaught that I was expecting. The onslaught that I got when I told my family I wasn't gonna be a part of their activities.

None came.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! That must really suck, having family but not being able to like, be a family!" Kitty said sympathetically, and I was suddenly being hugged. Soon the rest of my friends joined her in the hugging.

"Guys, can't breathe." I murmured, and they let go.

"Vhy didn't you tell us before?" Kurt asked, and I fought back the tears that sprang to my eyes.

"I thought – I thought you guys would make me leave. I didn't wanna leave; here feels more like a home and a family than my own." I admitted shyly, looking down at my feet again. I felt Kurt wrap an arm around my waist.

"Ve von't make you leave. Family isn't something you can choose." He said, and I smiled, nodding my thanks.

"I must admit, you all are taking this news very well." The Professor spoke for the first time since Simon left, and I lifted my head up to look at him.

"Why wouldn't we? So, Ana's family's nuts. Doesn't mean she is." Bobby came to my defense automatically.

"She could be a spy for Magneto, for all we know." Scott snapped back, ever the pessimist. I couldn't help but remember that it was the same argument he had used the first time.

"But she's _not_, bub." Logan growled from the corner, and I watched as one by one, my friends and the New Mutants showed their agreement.

"So it's settled then, I believe. Ana will stay. And if anyone from her family visits again, we will –"

"Kick their asses?" Evan said, finishing Storm's sentence.

"I don't think that's what she was gonna say, Evan." I teased him, laughing. Soon Kurt and Bobby were laughing too, and before I knew it, everything was back to normal. Like it never happened.

Except Scott and – surprisingly enough – Rogue. They both stalked away with twisted expressions, obviously not happy with the outcome of my confession. It made my stomach turn a little. I didn't want to be the cause of tension between members of the X-Men.

As if sensing my concern, Kurt squeezed my hip gently.

"Don't vorry about them, they'll come around." He reassured me as we trailed behind Bobby, Evan, Kitty, Jubilee, and some of the other teens as they made their way towards the sort-of living room.

Before I could register the impulse, I had already leaned my head against the teleporter's shoulder.

"I hope so."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Yay, chapter 7!<strong>_

_**Things being established! :D **_

_**I'm excited.**_

_**Oh, and I know that Ana's family tree seems a little confusing. I'm trying to make up a computer version that I can upload…somewhere, but I'm not technologically advanced…so I'm struggling on that. **_

_**I also know that trig is perhaps the easiest math class I've ever taken, but I couldn't think of anything else.**_

_**So…um, I dunno, review if you wanna…**_

_**Almost forgot! For anyone who's interested: the sequel to my Young Justice Fic, "Nightshadow", is up! It's called "Breaking Light"**_

…_**.just wanted to say that, in case anyone wanted to know. Sorry for the advertising, lol.**_

_**Stay Awesome and Happy Writings,  
>Vid.<strong>_


	8. Of Cousins and Forensics

_**A/N:**_

_**So, Lady Firewing was kind enough to make a family tree of Ana's family (the crime side, of course). It can be found here:  
><strong>___www. ladyfirewing. deviantart _.com/gallery/#/d4vguk3_

_**Just get rid of the spaces. (It's also posted on my profile, but since links have been disabled, copy and paste will become everyone's friend.)**_

_**And yes, there are some people that are on there that haven't been mentioned yet. They will soon enough.**_

_**Anyway, onto the actual story now…**_

_**UPDATE: Lady Firewing pointed out that I made a major typo at the end in which I call Simon the brother of Ana instead of her Uncle. I have fixed this. I apologize for any confusions. **_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 8: <span>  
><span>Of Cousins and Forensics<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

It was weird at school the next of day. For a couple of reasons.

The first being that I suddenly started seeing my cousin a lot more often. And he was conversing with me. This was really odd, at least at first.

See, no one knew he was my cousin. Dustin Hill was a year older than I, and really – and I mean _really_ – built. Every ounce of his bodyweight had to be muscle. He was on the football team, and the only one who could possibly be considered more popular than him was Duncan Matthews. I had to admit, albeit reluctantly, that Dustin was swooned after by many of my fellow classmates. With his perpetual tan, naturally gravity-defying spiked brown hair, and greenish-hazel eyes, he wasn't an eye sore. Hell, if I hadn't known him since I was four, I probably would have been one of those girls.

Dustin looked nothing like the Richards clan, and he had good reason not to. He was Sebastian's godson. When Dustin's parents died when he was five, Bastian adopted him. When _he_ passed away, Dustin went to live with Aunt Spencer, here in Bayville. Because Aunt Spencer lives so far out from the rest of the family, Dustin escaped a lot of the family's illegal activities the past three years. And before that, he wasn't too involved, either. So I hung out with him a lot when we were little. He was nice, and my cousin, and we were close in age, and…well, all the other typical reasons.

But after Sebastian died, Dustin changed. He knew I was in the field for that sting, and I guess he transformed his grief into anger and displaced it on me. Even when I was living under the same roof, I would only see him at meals. And he wouldn't speak with me. Needless to say, I gave up trying to initiate contact pretty quickly.

So I was in for a shock when the day after Simon showed up at the Institute Dustin stopped me in the hallway.

"Hey, Ana." His tenor was unmistakable, even after the lack of words being exchanged.

"Dustin?" I turned and looked up at him. Like just about everyone else, he towered over me.

"The one and only." He gave me his signature shit-eating grin. I became immediately suspicious.

"Did Simon put you up to this?" I asked accusingly. I had no doubt that Simon was more than willing and capable of doing something like that.

"Oh come _on_, Analeigh! So distrusting of your cousin. That hurts." He grabbed as his chest dramatically. I rolled my eyes.

"Get off it, Dust, and tell me what you want. You're cutting into my food-consumption." I snapped. He looped an arm through mine.

"Then we can walk and talk, Cousin. And I assure you, Simon did not 'put me up' to anything. I haven't spoken to him since the last family reunion. Although Aunt Spencer did say that he was in town…" Dustin trailed off and looked at me expectantly.

"He made a…unexpected visit yesterday." I said as vaguely as I could. I found myself beginning to say more, but I clamped my mouth shut.

_If only we could go back to the way things were…when I could trust Dustin with anything. We were so close._ I thought ruefully as I waited for my cousin to respond. _I guess that's the price to pay when you leave the family business – no one wants anything except to try and get you back in._

"Did he?" Dustin asked, and I scanned him for any tells. What can I say? Old habits die hard.

To my surprise (and chagrin), Dustin wasn't lying about his surprise of Simon's 'visit'. Nor had he spoken to Simon. That got me back to square one. _If Simon didn't tell him to talk to me, why is he talking?_

"Yeah. He did. Made quite a scene, too." I pushed up the sleeve of my turquoise hoodie just enough so that Dustin could see the ugly purple bruise.

"Damn. He must be _angry_." He said, letting out a low whistle.

"Dustin?"

"Yeah?"

"Why the sudden break in the silent treatment?" I asked before I got the sense to stop myself. Dustin sighed.

"Honestly? Aunt Samantha – I mean, your mom – asked me to break contact. She thought that it would make you come back. But I missed you, Cuz. I missed you a lot. I told Aunt Spencer, and she told me that if I wanted to talk to you, Samantha couldn't stop me." He rubbed at the back of his neck. I noticed idly that we had made it to my locker. I made a show of opening it and taking out my lunch to give myself more time to digest what he had just admitted.

"How much of the Family Business have you been involved in the past three years, Dustin?" I settled on. I wasn't going to forgive him so quickly. (No matter how much my heart wanted me to)

"You know Aunt Spencer specializes in tech and communications. I've heard of a lot of the stuff, and Spencer has me test-run equipment in her lab, but I haven't actually been a part of anything since the Crow. And even then I was with Spencer in the van the entire time. Da – Sebastian didn't want me in the field 'cause I dislocated my shoulder at football practice. That's why you were in the field, remember?" Dustin's voice had dropped progressively lower as he spoke, and I was suddenly presented with the Dustin that I had spent so much time with – not the cold and angry Dustin, nor the popular football/jerk Dustin. No, this was the Dustin I considered 'real'. The one that didn't mind talking about feelings sometimes, and that would spend Friday nights watching old action movies with me just because I wanted to. The one that a young me had associated his behavior with that of a brother's.

It kind of hurt, seeing that familiar side of Dustin, and then remembering that it had all but vanished over the past three years.

"Yeah, I remember, Dust. I'm sorry. I just – I'm tryin' so hard to get away from it – from _all_ of _it_. But it just keeps coming back. First Simon shows up at my new home, and then you suddenly start speaking to me again. I just – it's all really suspicious." I shrugged my shoulders, and Dustin smiled down at me.

"Nawh, Cuz, I totally get it. I should've thought of that. May not be a Richards by blood, but I still got the family ties. But I wanna get out, too. Have for a while. It was nice with Sebastian; he didn't make do anything I didn't want to. And we live far enough away that I'm outta Samantha's reach. So I've been lucky. But honestly? I partially decided now because some _weird_ stuff is going down according to Aunt Spencer. And she's only telling me bits and pieces. You have experience getting out. I was uh…hoping you could help me out." At this point we were outside, and I pulled Dustin under one of the shady trees in the corner of the courtyard area.

"Dude, the way I see it, you're already out. Only thing you have to do is turn a blind ear from the stuff you hear from Spencer, and move out once you graduate, and you're free. You got it easy, Dust." I reveled in how _easy_ it was, talking to Dustin. The only other member of the family that I had no problem talking to was Shawn. I found myself smiling uncontrollably.

_I missed you, Dustin._ Now if I could only get Shawn back…

"Yeah, I guess so. But sometimes, I kinda wish I was like you. So that I could have a place to go, a new family to become a part of." Dustin said wishfully, staring up at the sky. A red flag immediately went up in my mind.

"Who knows? Have you told anyone? I don-"

"Chill, chill. Your mom thinks it's a boarding school. Everyone else does, too. Spencer's the only one that knows it for what it really is. And I know because when she was packing your things I was pestering her about it. But she said I couldn't tell anyone, especially not the family. She didn't want your new life to be jeopardized by us." Dustin reassured me, cutting me off in the process. I smiled at him.

"Thanks, Dust."

"No problem, Ana. The way I see it, you're so willing to forgive and go back to the way it was between us. It's the least I can do in return." He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me towards him. I hugged him back as tight as I could.

"I missed you." I muttered into his shirt.

"I missed you, too."

"There you are!" Dustin and I simultaneously dropped our arms and looked up at the intruder. Standing there was Bobby and Kurt. Bobby was oblivious to what he had just interrupted, but Kurt looked angry – _extremely_ angry.

"Bobby, Kurt. What's up?" I said, finally opening up my lunch and pulling out some Goldfish. Dustin helped himself to my food, and I didn't stop him.

"We were just looking for you…wait, why are you hanging out with Dustin Hill?" Bobby replied, processing the scene in front of him too late.

"Uhm, well -"

"I'm her cousin. Adopted cousin. And you are?" Dustin said in his best charismatic voice as he stood up and held out a hand. Bobby shook it. Kurt just waved.

Dustin didn't even blink at the German's odd behavior.

_Thank god._ I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

"Um, I'm Bobby, and that's Kurt." Bobby stammered and shot me a look that practically screamed 'Is-he-like-Simon?'

"Nice to meet you both. I'm guessing you already know the Family Business?" Bobby stared at him open-mouthed.

"Your suspicious facial expressions clued me into it. And no, I'm not a part of the Family Business. Live too far away to take part in any of that kind of _stuff_." Dustin answered Bobby's question for me. I saw them both visibly relax.

"Okay, so you have noting to do vith the fact that Simon is Ana's forensics sub for the veek?" Kurt asked, his arms folded in front of his chest. My jaw dropped.

"Simon did _what_ now?" I fought to keep from screaming. I glanced at Dustin. He was just as shocked as I was.

"Yeah, calls himself Mr. McAllister." Bobby said. I ran a hand through my hair.

"That _ass_." I spat, clenching my fists.

"Hey, calm down." Dustin and Kurt said simultaneously. They both looked at each other, clearly weirded out.

"The good news is that ve only have forensics three times dis veek." Kurt said.

"The bad news is that you have your _uncle_ – who is pretending not to be your uncle – as a substitute teacher." Bobby added. I ran my hands through my hair again before turning to Dustin. He still looked slightly shocked.

"Simon's _visit_ didn't go too well in his opinion." He stated more than asked, and I nodded.

"I can't believe him…" The older boy trailed off as he subconsciously rubbed at the back of his neck – his nervous tick.

"Dust, it's a lot harder to get out than you think it is." I told him gravely. The bell that signaled the end of lunch sounded, and I trailed behind the three boys back into the school.

Straight to forensics class for Kurt and I.

_This'll be interesting._

* * *

><p><em><strong>So, ta-da!<strong>_

_**Kinda a filler, and some total family member fluff (sorry to those of you that dislike fluff), but I wanted to get Dustin established, and to signify how important he was to Ana, he got almost an entire chapter! Lol. **_

_**Anyway, hoped you liked the continuation of discovering the Richards family members. I had fun writing it. **_

_**SAHW (acronyms = love),  
>Vid.<strong>_


	9. Of Conmen, Criminals, and HeartBeats

_**A/N:**_

_**Son of a Shit it's been like, two freakin' months!**_

_**I am so so so so so so so x1000000 sorry! I've had total writer's block with ALL of my stories, and then there were finals, and I had to dissect a pig, and it was all guts and nastiness, and urggghhh. **_

_**It didn't help that I pretty much threw out everything that I had planned for this story.**_

_**But school is out, and I have time to write, and I think I know what I'm doing now.**_

_**So here's chapter nine.**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 9: <span>  
><span>Of Conmen, Criminals, and Heart-Beats<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

"Hello, my name is Mr. McAllister, and today we will be learning about conmen and how people in the forensics field help catch them." I felt my jaw drop. A quick glance to my left and right saw that both Kitty and Kurt were in similar states of shock.

He was basically two steps away from _saying_ "Hey kids, I'm a conman!"

"Aren't you going to take roll?" A girl in the front of the room asked. Simon smirked.

"Oh, no, I figure that since every seat has someone in it, then everyone's here today." Then my Uncle launched into a speech about the importance of facial recognition software, and I glared at him.

And that's basically how the class went.

I'll spare you the details of the rest of the day, because if I'm honest, it was all a blur until I burst through the doors of the institute that afternoon and screamed, "Simon was my substitute at school today!" as loud as my vocal chords would let me.

"Criminal kid did _what_?" Logan said, immediately bursting into the foyer. Storm and Mr. McCoy followed shortly behind him.

"_It seems that Simon will not rest until he got what he came here for." _I heard the Professor's voice in my head, the man himself arriving soon after. I wasn't the only one he sent the message to, evidently, because I heard Bobby's muttered "No shit" from behind me.

"What shall we do, then?" Storm asked to no one in particular, although it was obvious to me she wanted Professor X to answer.

"Until he tries to make a move again, there is nothing we can do." There was a hint of sadness in Prof's gaze when his eyes met mine. I didn't really know what to think of it.

"Oh, come on, can't we just like, _crush him_ or something?" Evan almost-whined.

"No, Evan, that could lead to dire consequences. Simon is not a mutant, and so we can only use force in self-defense, and even then it cannot be mutant force." He responded.

"But it _is_ self-defense! It's _Ana's_ self-defense!" Kurt interjected, and a chorus of Yeah's followed suit.

As much as I wanted to thank them, I knew that the Professor was right. So even though they were now arguing with each other like I wasn't there, I stayed quiet.

I tried to follow the conversation, but soon everyone was talking at once and I just got lost in who what responding to what, etc. That is, until Evan announced, louder than everyone else, "Whatever, dudes. I'm going for a ride." And walked out the door, Bobby and Kurt following suit. Soon, everyone dispersed until I was alone in the foyer with Professor Xavier.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I'll go uhm…talk to them…or something." I said hurriedly before rushing out the big double-doors and (maybe) in the direction the boys had gone.

I headed in direction I thought was some sort of Skate Park and hoped that was where I would find Evan, at least.

Sure enough, I almost ran straight into them halfway to my destination.

"Whoa there, Ana. On a mission?" Bobby joked as I stopped short, nose-to-nose with the Iceman.

"Lookin' for you guys." I responded, taking a step back.

"So you're ready to kick some Con butt?" Evan asked, hope sparking in his eyes.

"Uh…no. I mean, I would love to, but the Prof's right. We can't attack Simon. If not because we have an unfair advantage, then because he'd come back with the full force of the Richards Clan…and then we'd be screwed." I looked down at my zebra-print flats and prepared myself for the worst.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Vie vould be screwed. Even if just vaiting for him to do someting makes me feel like a _sitzpinkler._" Kurt said quietly, and I felt his arm wrap around my shoulders.

"Yeah, I guess." Bobby agreed, albeit begrudgingly. Evan just made a noncommittal snort that I took as one of agreement.

"Let's just go home, shall we?" I put on my best smile and began walking back towards the Institute. Thankfully, Kurt moved with me, and I heard Bobby's rather squeaky sneakers and Evan's skateboard only a moment later.

"Not so fast, _Chere._" A heavily accented male spoke from the shadows as we turned down a side street.

"Who are you?" Bobby spat as we all turned towards the direction of the voice, Kurt dropping his arm back down to his side.

"You may call me, _Gambit_." He spoke again, and I finally placed him as Cajun, before registering what he had said.

_Gambit. _Simon had said that name during his visit, '_But you _have_ to help Shawn. He's barely been outta month 'nd already got in deep with Gambit.'_

A hazy image from my childhood formed in my mind. Sure enough, the man who stepped out of the shadows matched that image.

"Shawn." I breathed, immediately tensing.

"Ah, yes, _Shawn Richards_. Poor fella." If Kurt hadn't put a hand on my shoulder, I would've run at him right then.

"What did you do to Shawn?" I barely recognized my own voice, venomous and low.

"Relax, 'e's not…_too_ hurt, chere." Gambit snickered – _actually_ snickered!

_Damn, he makes my blood boil._

"Vhat do you vant?" Kurt spat at him, obviously just as pissed as I was.

"I just have a message fer one Analeigh Richards." He drawled.

"It's _St. Clair_, you bastard." I snarled, but he ignored my interruption.

"Simon says that the more you resist it, the more poor Shawny gets hurt." My stomach churned violently, and I took an involuntary step back.

Evan lunged at him then, but Gambit was gone.

"Holy…_Shawn._" I trailed off and felt my knees begin to weaken. Kurt wrapped an arm around my waist.

"We'll get that bastard Simon and that Gambit guy, too." Bobby reassured me.

"And vie vill get Shawn back." Kurt added.

"You should get her back to the Institute, Kurt. Bobby and I will tell the Prof." Evan told Kurt, and with a **bampf**, I was standing (more like leaning on Kurt) in the middle of an unfamiliar room.

"My room. Figured you vouldn't vant to look like you saw a ghost in front of de girls." Kurt quickly explained, and sat me down on the edge of his bed.

"I can't – Shawn and Simon are _brothers_…why…who would be so _cruel_ to subject…to subject their own _brother_ to harm?" I muttered, dropping my head into my hands. I still had the ugly churning feeling in my stomach at the thought of the only family member who _truly _cared about me (besides Dustin) was hurt, and in danger, _because of me._

"It's not your fault." Kurt said softly, and I snapped my gaze up to meet his. I hadn't realized I had been speaking aloud.

"Vhat? It's the truth. You did nothing wrong." He reiterated.

Without thinking about it, my arms had wrapped around his waist and I had buried my face into the crook of his neck. His arms immediately wrapped around me, and we just sat there like that.

And, beneath the churning, borderline-nauseous feeling in my stomach and the dull ache in my head, I felt my heart skip a beat.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Weird place to end, but whatever. It didn't make sense if I kept going. It felt too awkward. <strong>_

_**But yeah, you all know where this is going!**_

_**You're all probably like, "Yay, Vid finally decided on shippings! Mwahahaha."**_

_**It certainly took me long enough.**_

_**So, review and stuff…I guess…**_

_**Also, if you want to make "Cover Art" for that new Image Manager for PoA, please do! And send it to me! I'm a terrible artist, and it would be cool if we had epic artwork... but you don't have to, no pressure, i'm just putting it out there.**_

_**SAHW,  
>Vid.<strong>_


	10. Of Broken Records and Envelopes

_**So, hello there. **_

_**July fourth is tomorrow, and since I walk on the same soil as Tony Stark and Steve Rogers, I am going to be marching all day, so I figured I should probably update SOMETHING beforehand…**_

_**Plus, it motivated me enough to stop dying repeatedly in super Mario bros.**_

_**So, um, here's chapter ten!**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 10:<span>  
><span>Of Broken Records and Envelopes<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

The rest of the week, unfortunately, went exactly the same as Monday. I would get up, drag myself to school, practically hide from Simon all day, do my homework with Kurt, Danger Room practice, eat dinner, go to bed, and repeat.

I felt like a broken record.

Worse than a broken record. A broken record on a broken phonograph with a broken needle sitting on a broken table with a broken lamp and…

Well, you get my point.

So, when Friday rolled around and I found an envelope shoved into my locker right before lunch, I was practically jumping for joy.

"Kurt!" I caught the German by the sleeve as he walked past in the crowded hallway.

"Ow! Vhat vas that for?" He rubbed at his arm as he looked down at me in mock anger.

"Oh, please. Look what I found!" He immediately eyed the envelope like it was a ticking time bomb.

"And vhere, exactly, did dis come from?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. I sighed.

"My locker…"

"So, Simon probably did something to it. Maybe it has anthrax in it or something." Kurt gingerly plucked the envelope from my hands.

I ran a hand through my hair, wishing nothing more than for him to give the envelope back. "It may not be from him. And Simon wouldn't send me anthrax; he'd be at risk as well if I opened it here. Which was what I was planning on doing, so if you would -"

"Oh, no, no, no. Ve don't know vhat this holds. Vhat if it is something dangerous?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I mean, I totally understood where Kurt was coming from. But the entire week had been so full of repetition and stress thus far, that I was itching for something different to happen. And the mysterious white envelope was something different.

"Come on, Kurt. Just let me open it. We still have time to go catch Bobby, if it would make you feel better. I just want to see it!" As I spoke, the throng of people stampeding towards lunch had thinned, and I could see Dustin looking at us from his locker down the hall.

_Gah, he's going to come over and ask what's up. Then he'll side with Kurt. Then I'll never even get to see the contents of said envelope. Think fast, St. Clair. _

"What if it's not from Simon, but our Cajun friend? What if it's about my other Uncle?" I almost pleaded in a last-chance moment of desperation. Kurt's skeptical expression instantly softened, and he loosened his grip on the envelope.

"I suppose maybe…" He said, trailing off. I knew I had broken through.

"Can I have the envelope, then?"

"Ja, here." He let out a puff of air that I assumed was supposed to be exasperation (he wasn't very good at it) and handed me the envelope just in time. Dustin had finally begun to make his way over.

"Come on; let's go find Bobby, in case this is something important." I slammed my locker shut and grabbed Kurt's hand, practically dragging him around the corner in an attempt to escape another round of speculation.

To no avail.

"What's going on, guys?" I stopped in my tracks and turned to see Dustin jogging up to us. A group of tittering girls stopped mid-sentence and stared as he went past.

Yeah, that's right. Ana's hot cousin makes girls swoon while jogging. Which, as we all know, is the most awkward of the variations of walking.

Why is my family so ridiculous? (Rhetorical question).

"Nothing." I said, while at the same time Kurt blurted out, "Ana got a letter."

"A letter?" Dustin's face mirrored Kurt's from only a few minutes earlier. I sighed (again).

"Yes. A letter. More of an envelope, really. I don't know if there's a letter in it or what, because_ I haven't gotten a chance to read it yet_." I was getting irritated at the delay. I had become convinced that it had something to do with Shawn, and thus my stomach was churning in anticipation.

"Is it from Simon?" Was Dustin's immediate response.

Damn, is everyone working against me today? "I wouldn't know, Dustin. This is the part where I repeat what I had previously said, stressing the fact that I _hadn't opened it yet_ even more than before." My irritation was turning into cruel sarcasm, which is never a good sign, but like every time the cruel sarcasm came out, I didn't care enough to stop it.

Then Dustin surprised me, "Well, let's open it, then." I opened my mouth, then snapped it shut again.

"Ve vant to find Bobby first." Kurt supplied when the awkward moment of silence had gone on long enough.

"Uh…yeah." I turned on my heel and walked into the cafeteria. Weaving my way through tables hosting various cliques, I found Bobby seated with some of the other mutants towards the back.

"Hey, Bobby. Um, can I talk to you outside for a minute?" I asked in as calm a voice I could get at this point. The envelope felt like fire in my hands. Bobby took one look at Kurt and me, Dustin standing behind us, and bid a swift farewell to our housemates.

"What's going on?" He asked once we had filed into an abandoned classroom.

"I got an envelope." I responded, looking down at said object. It was quite thin, and had my name written in thin, slanted handwriting across the front. I felt my stomach drop.

"D, recognize the writing?" My cousin's hand involuntarily clenched on my shoulder.

"What? What about the handwriting? What are Kurt and I missing?" Bobby snapped, but I just tore open the envelope, the contents falling onto the student desk in front of us.

It was two rectangles of paper. On one, in the same thin, slanted writing, was a set of coordinates. On the other, "Come find me. NAT." Kurt reached for the first page and examined it while Bobby pulled up a map on his phone.

I tentatively picked up the second piece of paper. To my surprise, it was photo paper. I turned the page over -

And promptly screamed.

"Holy Shit!" I dropped the photograph like it held the plague.

"Vhat? Vhat?" Kurt exclaimed, his hand at my elbow.

Dustin snapped his head towards the discarded photo and swore.

Bobby just looked confused.

The photo showed a man in his earlier thirties tied to a chair in a nondescript home office-type room. The man had on a blue plaid shirt, one sleeve dangling by a thread, and his brown eyes seemed to be silently pleading the photographer. He had a long gash above his right eyebrow, which had been uncared for, for dried blood was crusted on his face and there were spots on his collar. His left eye was blackened, and his light brown hair disheveled. But that wasn't the part that had made me scream. For the first thing my eye had been drawn to was the distinctive jawline. The jawline that, to the observant and trained eye, makes us all unmistakable.

I had been sent a photo of Shawn Richards.

"Uncle Shawn." Dustin finally answered Kurt and Bobby's unasked question, his voice just barely a whisper.

"Alright, who the hell is NAT, and why does he have your uncle?" Bobby demanded, although he was still fiddling with his phone.

"It's not a person. Shawn was forced to write this himself. 'NAT' stands for 'Not a Trap'. If it's not a trap, then Simon wasn't responsible. He wouldn't have let Shawn write it himself, plus, if it _was_ Simon, Shawn would probably tell us it _is_ a trap." Dustin explained. I blinked in surprise when he clarified part of the Richards Code. Yeah, that's right. My criminal family has its own language. Awesomesauce.

"And he'd be in a lot worse shape." I added, only half-joking. We lapsed into silence, staring at the photo in Dustin's hands.

"So what are we going to do about this?" I finally inquired, breaking the tension.

Kurt rubbed the back of his neck, then said: "I suppose ve have to go to these coordinates tomorrow morning. Vell, me, you and Bobby. Sorry, Dustin, but I don't think you should go. If ve trust vhat Gambit told us, then ve'd have to face off against a mutant."

"So I wouldn't have a chance. Nah, I get it. Just, keep me posted, alright?" Dustin set the photograph down on the desk and left without another word.

"Are we gonna tell the others?" Bobby suddenly interjected.

I looked up at Kurt. I immediately recognized the glint in his eyes. "Dat vould be the smart thing to do…" I picked up where he left off:

"So, obviously, we aren't going to do it."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ta-Da!<strong>_

_**So, end of chapter ten, next chapter, Bobby and Kurt and Ana go places! Woo for actually getting somewhere in the story!**_

_**I apologize for the lack of KurtxAna in this chapter, the next one (hopefully) will make up for it.**_

_**Review and stuff (I feel obligated to say this, because it seems like nearly everyone else does, but at the same time I do want you to review, so I really don't know where I'm going with this. I'll be quiet now).**_

_**SAHW,  
>Vid.<strong>_


	11. Of Scavenger Hunts and Other Uncles

_**Hello thurr.**_

_**I'm not sure if I've told you guys yet, but imma say it agains anyways:**_

_**I have tumblr! I mostly reblog stuff (from various fandoms) BUT I also update on my stories, give sneak-peaks, etc. And I'll answer questions, too…**__**So…yeah. It's vid – silverbane. tumblr. com so uh, **__**that's**__** all. **_

_**Also, I apologize in advanced if Gambit is a little…off. I have been having difficulties writing this chapter for over a week now because of him, and so I decided to just stop trying to mess with it and upload, because I was taking too long. **_

_**I really don't have anything else to say…. **_

_**Enjoy chapter eleven!**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 11:<span>  
><span>Of Scavenger Hunts and Other Uncles<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

"Wake _up_!" Bobby stage-whispered from the other side of the bed as I shook Kurt's shoulder.

"Vha –" Kurt finally awoke. He sat bolt upright, his head colliding painfully with mine.

"Oh, Ana. Sorry." He reached out and brushed some of my hair behind my ear. My face tingled pleasantly where his hand touched my skin.

I recognized the feeling and tried to push it away. If I was honest, I had been pushing it away for weeks now, but I wasn't going to be honest. I was going to pretend it didn't exist.

_Kurt is your friend. You'd be putting him in danger._

"C'mon, Kurt, let's go!" Bobby bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly.

_At least one of us is excited to be doing this._ I thought; dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. _This could wind up a wild goose chase…or worse…_

"I'll uh – I'll meet you guys downstairs." I said hastily, trying to push _that_ feeling down, as well.

I bounded down the stairs and into the foyer, where I bent down as if re-tying my black converse (also known as trying not to look suspicious). I had on a pair of skinny jeans and a black long-sleeved Henley to complete my "darker-than-my-typical-look-but-still-my-style-so-no-one-gets-suspicious" outfit.

Because _everyone_ is _always_ suspicious.

Sure enough, as soon as I had pulled myself back upright, Logan was standing right in front of me.

"Where d'ya think you're going, blondie?" He asked menacingly, his arms folded across his broad chest. I bit the inside of my lip to keep from giving myself away.

"It's a nice day; I wanted to spend the day outside. Kurt's coming with me." I didn't _lie_, I just…didn't tell the whole truth, either.

"Don't do anything stupid." He grumbled, walking away.

_Impossible. Bobby's coming with us. _I smirked inwardly.

"Was that Logan?" Bobby asked from behind me. I jumped.

"Jeez, Bobby! And yes, yes it was. He thinks Kurt and I will be gone for the day."

"Good. You guys ready?" Kurt held out his arm to me, and I took it without hesitation. We were going to teleport to the coordinates, since they weren't far away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What about _my_ excuse?" Bobby whined as Kurt clamped his other hand around the Iceman's wrist.

"You don't have one." I told him, in all seriousness, "You don't have one because Kurt and I came up with the plan. You were too busy stuffing your face."

Bobby's jaw slackened, "Huh?"

"Basically, my friend, you are screwed." Kurt sighed, and then I felt a tug at my gut. We were at the coordinates – an abandoned warehouse – before I had a chance to blink.

"Aw, man! An empty warehouse? That's totally anti-climactic." Bobby huffed, turning around in a slow circle to take in the large, desolate building. After closer inspection, we found a few side rooms, but none of them looked anything like the room in the picture.

"Over here!" Kurt called suddenly. Bobby and I ran over to him.

Taped to the wall, at eye-level (well, eye-level for the boys, at least), was a new white card. It had another set of coordinates, and underneath that, "You're getting warmer". It was essentially almost exactly the same, save the handwriting. Just as messy, but more loopy than that of my uncle's. Bobby pulled out his phone and started typing in the coordinates immediately.

"This isn't your uncle's handwriting." He stated, not looking up. It wasn't a question, but I answered anyway:

"No. I don't recognize it."

"Vell, let's go there, then." Kurt said, pointing at the coordinates. Bobby held out his smart phone to Kurt, a picture of the building pulled up on the screen. I carefully pulled the paper off the wall.

"Might need this later." I murmured under my breath, sticking it in my pocket. The pages from the envelope yesterday were there as well, folded neatly.

I linked my arm with Kurt's, and he teleported us to the roof of the next location. Again, this building was within teleporting distance. In fact, it was close. _Very_ close. I couldn't help but think that whoever it was was doing that on purpose.

"Is it just me, or is this starting to look like a scavenger hunt?" Bobby asked, scanning the rooftops for any signs of life. I nodded and took a step backwards –

And (of course) promptly fell through a broken skylight.

I let out an ear-piercing shriek and squeezed my eyes shut as the air rushed past my ears. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around me, I felt an already-familiar tug at my gut, and then we hit the ground with a soft _thud_.

I slowly blinked my eyes open, and found myself to be staring straight into Kurt's dark eyes. His right arm was snaked tightly around my waist, and his left hand was underneath my head.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes filled with concern. I could barely hear him over the rapid thudding of my heart and my blood pounding in my ears.

"Uh, yeah. Thanks." I responded, my voice barely a whisper. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to calm my thundering heart and definitely trying _not _to think about how our faces were just _inches_ apart. But I failed, because his lips were getting closer…and closer…and then –

"Is she alright?" Something flashed across Kurt's face – _Anger? Disappointment?_ – and he pulled away sharply. I let out the breath I didn't know I had been holding.

"Yeah, she's fine." Kurt yelled back to the younger boy.

"Good! Now come get me, dude. I don't wanna do a swan dive like Ana." Bobby called cheekily.

"Shut up." I muttered, pulling myself up as Kurt got Bobby. This building was, if anything, just as empty, except bigger.

A single folding chair was sitting in the middle of the abandoned warehouse floor, and attached to that chair was – you guessed it – another square of paper, with another set of coordinates.

"'Even warmer still.' Whoever this guy is, he sure is annoying." Bobby read from the paper as he pulled up the next location on his phone.

"He's entertaining himself." I said immediately, thinking of Gambit. Kurt and Bobby may not think it was him, but I was sure of it. He had told me himself that he had been hired to take Shawn, after all. Who else could possibly have him?

"Third time's a charm?" Kurt asked holding out his hand.

"Let's hope." I sighed, taking the offered hand. Another tug at my gut and we were at yet _another_ abandoned warehouse.

"Varehouse fetish much?" Kurt grumbled, and I laughed.

"You need to not spend so much time with Kitty, dude. You're starting to talk like her." Bobby joked, poking him in the shoulder. Kurt made a scathing remark, but I wasn't listening anymore.

"Uh, guys?" I said, tugging on Kurt's shirtsleeve. Both boys turned to look where I was pointing.

"Not good." Bobby gulped. For there, leaning against the far wall (and confirming my theory) was Gambit.

"Hot! Hot! Well done, _chere_." He smirked, clapping slowly.

"Where's Shawn?" I demanded. He laughed.

"Straight to the point. I like it." I rolled my eyes.

"Yes, we get it. You're the villain, we're the good guys, now give us our damsel in distress." I spat, balling my hands into fists at my sides.

"You know, _chere_, you're not at all like the rest of your family. Neither is our good friend Shawn. But at the same time, you are." I clenched my jaw, biting back any sort of retort. My gut was telling me that something was off, that I didn't need to fight.

"You don't know the first thing about Ana!" Kurt barked angrily.

"Oh, but I do. You really _are_ like them. Driven, stubborn, clever, a little on the crazy side – then again, aren't we all? But you use those traits for good. Why?" Gambit played with the cards in his hands idly, completely at ease.

"If you're trying to get information out of me for my mother, I swear –" I began, but the Cajun cut me off.

"Oh, no, I'm just curious. That's all. In fact, none of your little clan of criminals knows that you're here. Then again, none of your new allies do, either." Another smirk. Something clicked in my mind, and suddenly I just _knew_ what my gut feeling meant.

"Why are you helping us, Gambit?" I asked, forcing myself to relax. I could see Kurt and Bobby looking at me like I was crazy out of the corner of my eye.

"Very good, _chere_. You catch on fast. If you must know, torture isn't my style. All harm was dealt before he was passed into my hands." He pushed himself off the wall and sauntered over, still playing with his cards. He stopped right in front of me, and I saw Kurt tense out of the corner of my eye. I gestured for him to back down.

Gambit leaned in close to my ear, "Just remember, Gambit ain't all bad." He pressed a small key into my hand, before abruptly spinning on his heel and walking off.

Bobby started to head towards him, but I blocked his path.

"But he's the bad guy! Why are we letting him go?"

I held up the key, "Because we got what we came for. Rule number one: don't pick fights you can't win." I headed towards the only other door in sight (besides the front door Gambit just left by, of course). Kurt was hot at my heels, Bobby just a few steps behind him.

"Rule number one of vhat?" The German asked. I shoved the key in the lock and twisted.

"Rule Number One of Ana St. Clair's guide to _not _finding yourself in an early grave." I deadpanned, pushing the door open with my shoulder.

"Uncle Shawn!" I cried. My Uncle lifted his gaze from the floor.

"Ana?" He whispered, his voice raw. I ran over to him and flung my arms around his neck.

"Yeah, it's me, Shawn. It's Ana." I said into his shoulder, tears pricking at my eyes, "I'm so glad to see you safe, Shawn."

"I knew you'd come." He said, and his arms were around me, pulling me into him. I held on to my uncle for dear life.

"Who are these guys?" Shawn asked, pulling away and standing up.

"That's Kurt and Bobby. They're two of my new friends. _They're like me._" I told him, and realization dawned on his face.

"Good to know there's good ones out there. For a while I thought all of you were like your mother." He said with a crooked grin. He stuck his hand out to Bobby, who was closer.

"Nice to meet you boys, I'm Shawn, Renee's uncle. I trust good ol' Gambit didn't give you too much trouble?"

"No sir, none at all. Just a scavenger hunt." Bobby said, shaking his hand.

"He has a varehouse fetish." Kurt piped up from the other side of the room, where he was sorting through the filing cabinets.

"I didn't think he would. Good fella." Kurt stopped what he was doing, and Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"Good fella? Sir, no offense, but Gambit's a _criminal._" Bobby shook his head in disbelief.

"So? So am I." My uncle said with a wave of his hand, indifferent.

I'm pretty sure that's when it dawned on Bobby and Kurt who they were currently having a (somewhat) normal conversation with.

"Vhat are ve going to tell the Professor?" Kurt groaned, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Who's the Professor? You have a Professor? I didn't think you were in college yet…" Shawn trailed off.

"Yeah, uh, I was hoping one of you guys had a plan for that." I shrugged, shifting my feet. Everyone just kind of looked at me.

_Oops._

* * *

><p><em><strong>End of chapter eleven!<strong>_

_**Kind of a weird ending, I must admit, but it was dragging a little, and I needed to break somewhere…**_

_**Drop a review if you'd like, or like, yeah…**_

_**Ha, so anyway, Hope you guys are having a great summer! See you next chapter/on tumblr!**_

_**SAHW,  
>Vid.<strong>_


	12. Of Runaways & Weird Sorts of Friendships

_**A/N:**_

_**Major apologies, guys. The last month and a half have been crazy. I had members of both sides of my family visit, band camp, summer work, my internet crashed, I (unfortunately) had to attend another funeral, and then last week was the first week of school, which we all know is just terrible. **_

_**But now I'm back! So I hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

* * *

><p><span>Powers of Animation: Chapter 12:<span>  
><span>Of Runaways and Weird Sorts of Friendships<span>  
>~Ana's POV~<p>

Thankfully, Dustin had thought a step ahead for us.

We arrived back at the mansion with Shawn in tow to see him and the Professor waiting on the front steps.

"Um…hi." Bobby muttered sheepishly, and I steeled myself for the worst.

"You must be Shawn. My name is Professor Xavier. Please, come in." The Prof said, shaking Shawn's hand.

"Alright…" He trailed off and shot me a confused look. I shrugged and followed Xavier into the Institute and then into his office.

"Before you say anything, sir, I'd just like to ask you not to punish the kids for helping me. Surely you know what I am, so you understand why they wouldn't tell you." Shawn immediately put on his 'convincing' voice, a trait that everyone in the family shared.

"I'm not going to punish them, Mr. Richards." The Professor said coolly, and we all sighed in relief.

"You're not? Good. Oh – Dustin? I had no idea that was you! You've gotten so _big_!" Needless to say, Shawn was easily distracted.

"Yes, hello, Uncle Shawn. Nice to see you too. Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Dustin replied with a tight-lipped smile, and I instantly got a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Oh, yes. Professor Xavier. Thank you for housing my niece. I'll just uh…I'll just get out of your hair. That seems like the best way…" Shawn trailed off when the Professor held up a hand to silence him.

"Nonsense, Mr. Richards. You're injured, and if I have my facts straight, you're also a fugitive from your own family. You may stay as long as you need to."

"Really?" I asked, Shawn echoing my just a second later.

"Yes, really." The Professor said aloud, while at the same time telepathically asking me, _"What is your Uncle's skill set?"_

"_Um…he's good at fixing things." _I thought back, because I really couldn't think of anything else. Xavier nodded and dismissed Bobby, Kurt, and I.

"What do we do now?" Bobby asked.

"Try to do something normal and hope the Brotherhood or Simon doesn't show up and ruin it?" I suggested. We found Kitty and Rogue and headed out again for the rest of the day.

**~PoA~PoA~PoA~**

That Monday, Kurt and I sat in Forensics (Simon-free) passing notes back and forth:

**So what do you think of my uncle?  
><strong>He sure is interesting. And the Professor seems to be putting his knack for fixing things to good use.**  
>Yeah. I'm just happy that he's at the Institute instead of with the Family.<br>**Yeah. And the best part is, no one hates Shawn. So you've got nothing to worry about.**  
>Who says I'm worrying?<br>**Please, Ana. A blind man could see it. What's wrong?**  
>Nothing.<br>**That's totally a lie.  
><strong>Look, let's talk about it later, okay?<br>**Okay. But I'm keeping your word on that one.  
><strong>When have I not kept my word.<br>**Never. But I'm just saying, just because you're from a family of conmen, doesn't mean that you have to keep everyone at arm's length.

I really didn't know how to answer him, so I just didn't respond. Instead, I opened my notebook the first time since class began.

A small square of paper came fluttering out.

My breath caught in my throat, and I looked at Kurt wide-eyed: he had seen it, too. He picked it up and handed it to me.

'_Ana,_

_You got out. Now it's my turn.  
>I hope you understand.<em>

_With love,  
>Dustin'<em>

I quickly hid the note back in the book and pointedly ignored Kurt's questioning glances, opting to hide behind my hair.

_Its okay Analeigh, just keep your cool. Dustin will be fine._

It was a lie I couldn't bring myself to believe.

**~PoA~PoA~PoA~**

I ignored everyone the rest of the day, and made a beeline to Shawn's temporary room once we got home.

I flung the door open, and my jaw dropped.

"Scott?" He was sitting on the edge of my Uncle's bed, and when I said his name, his head snapped up.

"I'll just be going now." He said unsteadily, getting up.

"No no no, wait a second. Why are you here? Where is my Uncle?" I demanded, blocking the doorway the best I could.

"I wanted to talk to him. But I couldn't find him, so I was waiting here." I sighed heavily at his response, ignoring the frustration bubbling at my gut.

"Well, then I guess you'll do." I dug in my pocket for Dustin's note and handed it to him.

"What is this?" He asked, taking it tentatively.

"Read it." I marveled for a moment on the fact that we hadn't gone at each other's throats yet as he read.

He looked back up at me, eyebrows threatening to merge into his hairline, and said "You mean he's gone?"

"He left. I told him that it wasn't that easy, getting out. But I guess he didn't believe me. I really just need to know what to do now." Because in all honestly, I was nauseous with worry over my cousin. No doubt my mother would go after him as soon as she heard the news, and he didn't stand a chance against her…

"Hey. He'll be alright." Scott said suddenly, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, "He'll be alright. Did you tell Kurt about this?"

The question caught me off guard. _What does Kurt have to do with this?_

"Um, no…I wanted to ask Shawn what to do, first. Why?" Scott just shook his head, almost pitying.

"No reason." We stood there in silence for a second, a pregnant pause, and then Scott started smiling at me.

"What?" I asked defensively, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Maybe _you_ can help me."

I raised an eyebrow at that, "Help with what?"

"A thing." He said, and I rolled my eyes.

"A…thing. C'mon, Scott, spit it out. What do you need me to help with." I glared at his red shades where his eyes would be. He was obviously purposely trying to egg me on, and the problem was, it was _working_. I wasn't entirely sure why, but I was hating Scott less and less. Right now, it almost seemed like we were…friends. _Weird._

"Well, I dunno if you can help me." He said with an innocent shrug, and I huffed.

"How do you not know?" I asked, forcibly calm, playing along.

"It depends on whether or not you can pick locks." Scott finally confessed with a smirk.

I broke into a grin. Sure, I didn't _like_ using the 'skill set' I had acquired from the Family Business, but if I knew anything about Scott, it's that he wouldn't do anything illegal. So (hopefully) it'd be okay.

Plus, this mischievous Scott I could kind of stand. He didn't seem to hate me.

"Are you _kidding_ me, Summers? I'm a _Richards_. Lock-picking's in my _blood._" A wide grin spread across Scott's face.

"_Awesome_."

* * *

><p><em><strong>Ta-da! Woo!<strong>_

_**So, didn't see that coming, huh? Scott and Ana are sort-of friends now.**_

…_**or are they?**_

_**Heheheh. Well, hopefully things are back to normal enough to get back on track. **_

_**I think it will be, because I just churned out chapters for all three of my stories (this one and my two Young Justice stories) in less than 24 hours. But no promises.**_

_**Review if you so please; sorry the chapter's so short, I really just wanted to end it there.**_

_**SAHW,  
>Vid.<strong>_


End file.
